And the Earth did Burn
by Omnissah
Summary: Fire swept through the world, burning everything. From the ashes, a Relic from the old world emerged, and where she gazed the Wasteland burned again. Now she has come to Remnant, hoping to leave it all behind. Huge thanks to askasknot for the cover image! Give that guy some love!
1. The Burning, Frozen Wasteland

_Black clouds rolled in the air, pale light shining through thin spots, but not truly breaking the clouds. Not that there was anything for the sun to shine upon. The earth had long been scarred, burned in atomic fire, twisted by the mad machinations of humanity._

 _The wind was cold, icy even, tearing through the desolate landscape, twisting through the burnt husk of what was once considered the center of the world. The half dome, crumbling away as the years wore away at it, created a whistling sound. Grey snow fell to the ground, turning to wet ash in some areas as residual radiation pockets warmed it up just enough._

 _Most intelligent beings were hidden away from the cruel winds and icy snow. Hidden away in shelters even as black ice began to cover exposed surfaces. In the distance, a building collapsed, either because of the conflict of the remnants of humanity, or the toll of 200 years on unmaintained structures._

 _The Pentagon, or The Citadel, depending on the person, was destroyed. Bombed out by the last scraps of the American government in a desperate attempt to spit at it's most bitter enemy, the Brotherhood of Steel. A few patrols from each faction still wandered, but without their command structures, they were little more than the snow in the wind, soon to be forgotten._

 _A single figure traversed the wasteland, slowly moving up to the abandoned capital building. It's decayed form even still impressing any who looked at it. The capitol mile, going from the Lincoln Memorial, to the GNR radio tower, all the way up the almost hallowed steps of the White house._

 _A few shots rang out, the figure quickly killing any who dared fire back. Through the main doors, the figure paused._

 _Here sat one of the most powerful governments to have existed. A power that dominated the global stage, it's rise lasting almost 4 hundred years. And in but two hours, it was laid low, wiped from the map. It was nothing more than the words in burnt text books, the ideals of age old institutions, and the burnt, ruined monuments it had left behind, like the Pharoh's of the Past._

" _I wonder if anyone should find this place, if everything were to recover, would they know what they stood upon?" wondered the figure aloud, voice muffled by the thick scarf and mask, slight mechanical tone betraying the sealed environment within the mask._

 _Ice clung to the figure, caked on the hem of the grey storm coat. Armored shoulder pads and forearm guards, black paint chipped, almost glowed with hoarfrost coating them. Similarly, the helmet, chipped and dented somewhat, had the swirling frost coating it. Thick gloves and heavy reinforced boots protected the figure from the elements. In their hand lay a simple pistol, customizations clearly showing, from the enhanced grip, to the armor piercing modification in the chamber. In the other hand was a sword, recovered from an underground arms locker, before the world went to shit._

 _The wind was lesser as they stepped forward, but the cold was still unbearable. Even through the thick padding underneath, the figure still felt the chill. Adjusting the grip on the weapons, the figure continued, passing the doors in the hallway, searching for one in particular._

 _It wasn't hard. It had to be the largest door at the end of the hallway. Here the wind was harsher, the windows long since blown out for whatever reason. The figure tensed, bringing the pistol to bear. At the end of the hallway stood a figure._

 _7 feet tall, green skin with sagging muscle, patchwork armor, a hunting rifle in hand. A super mutant, the main threat in the Capital wasteland. The figure paused. They could have sworn they killed all the mutants here._

 _Oh well._

 _Striding confidently, the figure was silent, the heavy boots impossibly creating no sound. Pistol still leveled, they walked, until right behind the mutant, seemingly not noticing them._

 _A flash, a twirl, and the beasts head was disconnected from it's body, the sword doing its job perfectly._

 _Entering the room, the mutant was behind, the figure paused. Here._

 _It was here that the order to end the world was given. Glancing to the right, she paused. The Presidential desk. An artifact from almost 600 years ago. Walking over, with an almost reverent step, the figure stowed the weapons, sword on the hip and pistol under the left arm. The coat ruffled in the breeze, showcasing a shotgun swinging from the hip._

 _Hands going up, they pressed a button on the back, disconnecting the seals on the helmet and mask, removing them. The scarf was pulled down, revealing the figure._

 _Longer hair, a dirty grey color streaked with white. Red eyes stared unflinchingly ahead. A smooth face, high cheekbones. Obviously female._

 _She was Jane Freewrite. Messiah of the Wastes, the Avenging Valkyrie, An Angle bringing the Lord's wrath upon His Enemies. But most of all, she was The Lone Wanderer. Not even 20 years of age, and she had already left her mark on the wasteland, having helped destroy the Slavers, the Raider gangs, the Enclave, but at a price._

 _The Brotherhood, decimated. Rivet City, the ship gone, having sunk into the waters below after an earthquake caused by the orbital strikes. Megaton, leaderless without Sheriff Simms. The GNR, it might be safe. Talon Company had been conscripted to take care of the station, making sure it stands. At the very least, it could stay standing._

 _For all intents and purposes, Jane had torn the wasteland apart, smashed the sandcastles of power that thought themselves kings. It would be left to grow, to find a new path, free from the influence of the Old World._

 _Her breath showed in the air, eyes taking in everything. There was something she was looking for. Read in the documents of the Orbital Strike Facility. Her eyes locked on a bust of an unknowable figure. It resembled the Lincoln Memorial._

 _Pressing the head back, a red button revealed itself. Without pausing, her thumb pressed the button a soft click echoing. A low hum started, it's low tones causing small objects to vibrate. Grabbing her helmet, she clicked it into place, the seals providing her with fresh air. Well, fresher than what was out there._

 _The room began to lower. Handgun out, she watched the room descend, while a metal blast plate began to close over the gap. Clicking the lamp on the side of her helmet, she noticed the underside of the blast plate. On it was the American Eagle, clutching an Arrow and a Scroll, the flag on the background._

 _The lift stopped after a while, leaving her only one path forward. Proceeding through it, she never looked back. What was behind her was the Old World, her Old World. A monument to the pride and arrogance of man, of unchecked technological growth, of weapons to horrific to consider. Of memories she would rather forget._

 _A father who never loved her._

 _A love who wouldn't forgive her._

 _A world that she didn't need._

 _She looked around. The presidential vault. The door, Vault-Tec's signature cog design wasn't even closed. Why would it be? The president was back in his office, sitting in his chair, skull with a single hole through the top._

 _Suicide._

 _Honestly, if she had burnt the world, she might do the same._

 _Too bad she had._

 _Entering the vault, she fired a few shots, the gouls inside downing quickly. There weren't many, and it was quick work._

 _An hour of exploration and she found it. Deep below the earth, a scientific experiment. The ultimate safe house. After all, how could an enemy attack you if you weren't in this existence._

 _She looked the control room over. Everything was pristine. Everything worked. She grinned under the helmet._

 _In the final days of America, science had attempted to do many things. Word was there were several underground communities, having existed away from the Wasteland, furthering science beyond what was originally thought. This was different._

 _A portal to another world, another entity. An existence that wasn't this one. Somewhere free of the bombs, the radiation._

 _Pulling up a console, she began typing. The sequences were ready, the test prepped. It was never activated. Never tried. It would either do for her what she wanted, taking her away from all this, or it would explode, taking an area out of the earth larger than the entire state._

 _It was a risk she was willing to take._

 _She removed a bag from her shoulder, pulling out the objects inside. Placing them around the room, she was satisfied. Pulling out a remote, she turned the dial before flicking the switch._

 _20 small red lights flashed into existence, and began flashing. Explosives. Nobody was going to follow her._

 _Typing away at the keyboard, she hit the enter key, an odd sort of finality to the action._

 _There was no hum. No explosion, no twisting of lights, no winds from a godless dimension. It was simply an empty test area, and then it wasn't._

 _A crystalline wall, showing a dark vista beyond it. The crystal wasn't, and it was. It was fluid and it was solid. It wasn't of this world, and it was. Stepping towards it, she pulled off her glove, feeling it._

 _Hard, soft, rough, smooth, hot, cold, it was everything and nothing. Endless possibilities. She didn't know where it went, if she would live, or if anything would change. But it was different, and she was glad._

 _With narry a glance, she stepped forward, passing through the portal._

 _Seconds later, the bombs exploded, removing the vault from existence._

* * *

It is warm. That is the first thing she notices. Well, it's not as cold as it was. It was still cool. The ice on her form started to melt though, running off quickly.

She was in a cave system, it was dark. Flicking the lamp on, she almost cried.

A destroyed city, half built, but destroyed. No signs of life, but rotting none the less. Although, there were no bodies, so that was a plus.

Looking up, she paused. There was a light. On reflex, she shut off the lamp and proceeded to head towards it, intent on scouting.

It looked like a train. Older, but functional. And yet, it's design was completely different to what she new. Instead of the smooth, aerodynamic form of an American train, zipping along at blistering speeds, this one was angular, blocky.

 _Different._

Using the binoculars, she observed.

They all wore a white uniform, cut off at the sleeves. Black pants and a hood completed the look, while weird metal masks covered the faces. On the back of the uniforms was a red Wolf's head with three claw lines through it. From what she could tell they were human, but certain aspects threw her for a loop.

They all had animal traits. There were ears, a couple tails, horns. Everything related to an Old World Animal.

One figure that was different was distinctly noticeable. A bowler at, white coat and cane. Bright orange hair. Obviously a leader, somewhat eccentric.

There seemed to be a commotion. Getting a view, she paused. Two of the guards were hauling a girl, no older than 16, up to the man. She was unconscious, clearly. Zooming in, she saw a bit of blood trailing down her face. Jane frowned.

At this distance, she couldn't hear, but it appeared he was yelling.

Stowing the binoculars, she stealthily crept forward, intent on figuring out just who these people were.

* * *

Ruby found herself unable to concentrate. The blow from the White fang member had knocked her silly, and the world seemed to be fading in and out.

"Boss! We got something you might want to see!" yelled the one on the left. That helped her come out of her befuddled state.

"Is this a good thing or a bad thing? Because I am having one hell of a day!" yelled a voice. Ruby paled.

"Oh no," she uttered, knowing the voice.

From the train car, out stepped Roman Torchwick. He looked at her. "Hello Red, this isn't good."

The Faunus on either side of her stiffened, letting go. Roman looked at them, hands held up in a 'what the hell' gesture.

"Guys, why are we letting go of the prisoner?" he half yelled, half asked.

The faunus didn't respond, instead slowly withdrawing their guns. "Something is here," replied the one on the right.

"What do you mean Perry, something is here?" queried Torchwick. He didn't get an answer, instead a multitude of explosions far behind the train.

Whipping around, he aimed his cane, the rest of the White Fang doing so as well, ignoring the prisoner.

Behind a building ran several figures. Ruby immediately grinned. It was her team!

There was a gunshot behind her. She turned, seeing Perry, the Faunus with glasses stumble forward. He looked down, noting a red circle blooming on his chest. As if reaching up to touch it, he fell over before his hand could reach it.

Torchwick stared, as did a few of the white fang. Spinning around, he froze. The white fang was similarly frozen, although for a different reason.

Faunus, thanks to their animal heritage, were inherently more acute to sensing danger. Where a dog or a cat might behave strangely, a Faunus will feel unease. Despite having a large human component, the animal aspects still managed to take over. In this instance, most of the Faunus were scared shitless.

A figure, about 6 feet tall stood by the train. A black coat hanging by the ankles, black ice clinging to the hem. A steel, chipped helmet covered the head, while silver lights shone forth. In one hand lay a sword, it's metal green while blue lighting danced along it's length. In the other, a large heavy pistol, an extended clip poking through the bottom.

To Roman, the figure was worrying. Just how had this figure snuck up on them so silently, and with such heavy looking boots! Weren't Faunus supposed to be good at detection? To the Faunus themselves though, they were terrified. This figure oozed death, decay. It smelt of age, of pain, of suffering. Its aura felt oppressive, as if all before it would burn in some unholy fire. It was little surprise when a few White fang bolted, running away, ironically towards the approaching figures.

On the other end, the rest of Team Ruby and Professor Oobleck slowed down. The figure of death and destruction had just appeared, shooting one of the white fang in the back. The round seemingly ignored the Aura of the Faunus, killing him instantly. It was little surprise when the group slowed down, not sure what was happening.

* * *

Jane pulled the trigger, killing the figure. In slow motion she observed. The rest of the mutants turned on her, and she grinned at their fear. The group running over slowed, not sure of what she was. Well, she would show them.

Her gun re aimed and barked. The bullet striking a silvery barrier over the second mutant, before piercing through, killing it. Aiming through V.A.T.S., she used the rest of her clip, taking out the mutants that were further away. Her sword was at the ready, prepared to dispatch the man in read.

Wait, where did he go?

Ah yes, he was in the train. Which was now moving, albeit slowly.

Sensing danger, she ducked. A fist flew where her face was, a shotgun blast echoing. A blond haired figure was attacking her. Strange, the prisoner figure looked elated when she first saw the group running over. Fine, incapacitation.

"I'd rather not fight you," grunted Jane, the metallic quality of her voice coming through the mask, slightly muffled by the grey scarf.

"You tried to hurt my sister!" yelled the Blond, swinging another fist. Jane dodged just in time, another shotgun blast tearing through where her face was a moment ago.

Bringing her sword up, she used the flat of it to deflect a fist coming at her, neatly sidestepping the blow. Stashing the now empty pistol in her holster, she assumed her fighting stance, sword held at the ready. The blond charged.

Flicking the sword, she made sure the blade struck flesh, inducing electrical arcs into the other girl.

Jumping back, Jane spun in mid air, plunging her sword through a particularly crazed looking mutant, seemingly trying to take her out with fists. The sword through the heart stopped that. Another duck, another explosion from a shotgun fist.

"Honestly, I was trying to help!" grunted Jane, dancing from another punch, while a hail of gunfire from some other mutants stitched into the earth where she stood.

A battle on two fronts was one she couldn't win easily.

"And now you're killing people?" yelled the blond. Jane actually paused at that.

"This surprises you?" The blond seems to be confused as well.

"Why wouldn't it? You just pop out of nowhere and start shooting!"

Jane would have responded, except the girl from before stepped between them.

"Yang! You came!" The blond, Yang, was tackled by the smaller girl from before. Jane paused as the rest of the group caught up, switching between joy at finding whomever this small girl was, and fear and mistrust at Jane. Honestly she was used to it.

The taller male of the group, wearing what looked like safari gear from the museum of history, directly approached her.

"We have no time for pleasantries! We need to stop this train, are you with us or against us?" Jane was somewhat startled at his fast speech pacing, but she nodded.

"I saved the girl there, can't leave a job half finished." The man nodded seemingly satisfied.

"Quickly girls! We've got a train to catch!" Jane turned and sprinted, heading for the train car which was rapidly gaining speed.

"Damn these boots!" she cursed, for once hating the weight they gave her. It was slipping away! A sudden thought came to her.

She sprinted a couple of steps before leaping, her sword in hand. In mid flight, she stabbed, the blade sinking deeply into the metal, holding there. Now that she was attached, it was short work to haul herself up, remove the sword, and climb to the top of the train car. She blinked when she saw the rest of the group, almost waiting there.

"How did you-!" she yelled, the steadily growing roar of the train drowning out her voice.

"No time! Quickly, to the front!" Needing no other motivation, Jane pulled out her shotgun, modified to fire solid rounds instead of buckshot. Sprinting across the top of the train, he grinned when there were more of these mutants.

Aiming forward, she pulled the trigger, delighting when not only the first one fell, but the mutant behind it was struck, hitting the ground. Holding the trigger, the combat shotgun bucked, round after round exiting the chamber, seemingly mowing down the mutants, blood and viscera spewing forth. Droplets of the blood and gore flew in the wind of the rapidly accelerating train, causing them to strike Jane's enshrouded form.

* * *

The combatants, concerned with the bombs on the train cars, didn't notice the carnage until blood started peppering them.

Weiss stared at the bomb, not quite sure what to do. The rest of the group were similarly stuck. Dr. Oobleck, his mind racing far faster, was thinking and discarding ideas as fast as they came.

"Guys! This one has a bomb too!" Turning, Weiss saw Blake pointing at the open hatch of the next car up. Beside her, Dr. Oobleck dashed past, heading for the third car. Swinging open the door, she barely heard his yell.

"They've all got bombs!" Weiss paled. What were they trying to do exactly? It made no sense to bomb a train in it's entirety!

She paused when wet drops began to hit her in the face. Spitting, she wiped her arm across her face, ready to tear into Oobleck and Blade for spitting on her, accidently or not. Removing her arm, she saw instead tiny streaks of dark red, with small pinpricks appearing on her clothes.

"What?" Mumbling to herself, she looked to the front of the train, and finally saw.

The mysterious black figure was springing up the length of the train, firing an absolutely destructive weapon into the hoards of white fang troops. The rounds were apparently powerful, because they were cutting down the troops in single shots, often injuring people behind them as well.

Weiss' mind blanked. She knew death. The White Fang had been killing her family for years, the violent protests and terrorist acts enraging her father, creating a household that she hated. With her every being she wished the White Fang would just end.

But she had never _seen_ death.

She couldn't help it, she screamed.

* * *

Jane laughed under her mask. These 'White Fang,' whomever they were, clearly weren't familiar with combat, expecting her to close to melee range automatically. Imagine their surprise when she unloaded round after round of solid lead shots into their ranks.

Swarm tactics. Many a raider had learned not to use that tactic with her.

She already knew the train was mined. Her pip-boy's radiological meter kept going off in regular intervals as she sprinted the length of the fast moving train, viscera now coating her form.

Her shotgun clicked empty. Ejecting the magazine, she grabbed another from her belt, ramming the action back, sliding a round into the chamber.

This magazine had a different ammo. It was a more traditional 12 gauge type, but the buckshot was coated in radscorpion venom. It was wonderful at crowd control. Sadly after this 100 round magazine all she had was a 20 round strapped to her lower leg. She would have to manage her shots. Fortunately most of the White Fang were hiding below. All the better.

Continuing the sprint, she was only dimly aware of the screaming behind her. Not sure why.

"This is too easy." Grinning with mirth, Jane was forced to pause when her next foe appeared.

About 9 feet tall, it was a giant, mechanized monstrosity. Double jointed legs, too top heavy, long arms fitted with duel cannons, it appeared to e a fearsome foe. If she had to compare it to a wasteland creature, she would say it's like an armored Deathclaw.

"Well shit, how do I take you out?" questioned Jane aloud. As if answering, the machine crouched, getting into a lower stance, weapons charging up.

Only for a flaming ball to smack into the center, causing the mechanized thing to fall off the train, the sound of tearing metal signalling the end of the thing.

She turned around observing as the group caught up with her.

"Well finally! I thought I was going to do all the hard work by myself!" she grinned. The group seemed to have been sprayed by blood somewhat, although based on their reactions, she was in far worse condition. It was surprising when the black haired one walked right up to her.

"Just what do you think you're doing!" she screamed. Jane just looked at her through her white optics, night vision clearly picking out their features.

"Pretty sure I'm heading to the front of the train!" yelled the Wanderer. Honestly, killing the enemy. Was it a foreign concept?

The green haired man stepped forward, pulling the dark haired one back.

"I believe she is asking why you so quickly agreed to work with us," he interrupted. Jane nodded in understanding.

"Please, group of masked individuals kidnap a small girl? What more do I need?" she replied, a laugh in her tone. Not waiting for a response, Jane spun around, striding further towards the front. Looking back, she yelled.

"You take care of the big ass metal things, I'll head to the front and stop this thing!" Dashing forward, she managed to squeeze between the feet of 4 more metal monsters, reaching the third last train car.

Seeing no hatch on the top, she jumped down, using the front portal. Immediately the wind lessened. Glancing at her form, she cursed.

"Aww, the blood's going to be so hard to get out this time. Nothing is ever easy," she grumbled. Stepping forward, she was forced to duck when a sword swung by. It was a thin thing, lacking a traditional handle, instead some end of what looked like a cane. Readying her shotgun, Jane took in her opponent.

And laughed.

"S-s-seriously! T-that's your c-combat outfit! Oh god this is too rich!" Jane actively tried not to bend over laughing. The figure was dressed in what could only be described as a Sunday outfit. Knee high white boots, a brown and white coat, pink hair with heterochromatic eyes. And a giant god damned parasol. That was pink.

The girl frowned, instead dashing forward, sword and umbrella ready.

Jane merely pulled the trigger, letting round after round of burning buckshot fly in a cone of death. The figure quickly brought up the umbrella, using it to deflect the shots. The acid quality of the venom however was slowly burning away the thin fabric. And let's be honest, there were more rounds in her gun that the girl had fabric on her shield.

Jane grinned at the look of worry in the girl's eyes. Still holding the trigger, she sheathed her sword, walking forward. When she was in arm's length, she let go of the trigger.

A swing of the gun removed the now rotting umbrella. A backhand with the same gun caught the girl in the face. Her open fist grabbed the front of the strange girl's attire. The second fist let go of the gun, it swinging down below the coat on a strap. The fist flew forward, nailing the girl in the face.

Once, twice, three times and the strange multicolored girl was out, the metal knuckles of Jane's glove delivering far more impact than usual. Even with the strange shields these people had, blunt impacts still jarred the brain.

Dropping the girl, Jane strode forward, leaving her to lay there until the group from before caught up. Transitioning into the next car, she had to curse. Whatever world this was had to be completely insane.

The 7 foot tall muscular warrior wielding a chainsaw, while not being as funny as the person from before, represented a different problem.

And yet, perhaps not. Like the rest of this 'White Fang' group, he seemed afraid. Terrified even.

"What's wrong, afraid to fight little old me?" she taunted, swapping magazines on her pistol.

The man grunted. "What are you? You are not natural!" he all but roared. Jane giggled.

"There may be some truth to that. You going to let me pass quietly?" she grinned, gesturing with her open hand to the door behind the figure.

Whilst seemingly terrified of her presence, something she would have to figure out later, it didn't seem to break the resolve of the man before her. Raising his chainsword, he charged.

Jane leveled her pistol, firing twice.

The first bullet plowed into his knee, but the strange white shield held. The second bullet slammed into it as well, but the white barrier held. Jane was forced to dodge a messy overhand attack as the sword ground into the spot. Firing another round, it pinged uselessly into the sword, making a small dent but doing nothing.

Quickly swiping her sword out, she used it to deflect another attack. The man might have had skill, but his fear was causing him to make ineffective strikes. Nothing but downward cuts that bit deeply into the metal floor and wide swings that she ducked easily.

Was he frothing at the mouth?

He swung wide, a lot faster this time. Jane ducked. Her foot kicked out, kicking his leg out from under him. Falling to his knee, he could only watch as she brought her gun to bear, firing several times into his chest. The first two rounds mushroomed hopelessly on the white barrier. The rest however punched through, slamming through his chest. Red spurts popped up, showcasing 5 new holes in the man's chest.

Groaning, as if shocked that he had been defeated, he managed to utter one word before falling to the side.

Jane tilted her head. "Demon huh? Not the first time I've heard it." Leaving the dead man, she continued on, replacing the now empty magazine on her gun, again.

"Honestly, it just chews through ammo, don't know why I keep it," she muttered. Stepping through the portal to the next, and hopefully last car, she let out a sigh of disappointment.

It was the orange haired guy with the funny hat.

"Let me put it this way, the joke of a girl with the umbrella is currently out cold. Your 7 foot tall lumberjack enthusiast is currently dead. You hardly seem to compare. So stop the train and I'll think about not killing you."

Roman, to his credit, did not flinch at the immediate sight of the figure. Still cloaked in black and grey, silver optics glaring at him. The difference now was the quite liberal coating of blood all over the form.

"Well I have to admit, you've trampled my plans quite well. I don't suppose you'd consider switching sides?"

Jane snorted. "That girl, what were you going to do with her?"

Roman guffawed. "Red? Oh after toying with her for a bit I'd have to let her go. She's too important."

Jane paused. Toying with a girl? Dude was straight out of paradise falls. Too bad she burned that place to the ground.

Pulling the trigger, she was pleased when it only took one bullet to puncture whatever barrier he was using, tearing into his knee.

"Ah god! What the hell!" he screamed, falling to the ground. His now ruined knee bled profusely. Any thoughts of retaliating gone, he applied pressure to the wound.

Ignoring him, Jane walked forward, taking a peak into the next car. Dashing back, she grabbed the strange man, throwing his screaming body into a nearby metal crate.

"Shaddup! It's just a bullet!" Closing the lid, Jane hopped into a crate nearby, slamming the top closed from inside.

"Oh this is going to hurt!" she yelled, bracing herself against the walls of the crate.

* * *

Consciousness returned quickly to Jane. Growling, she kicked her boot against the lid, forcing it open. Light streamed into the box, the loud tone fading in and out. One of her optics was cracked, messing up part of her vision. Disgusted, she tore her helmet off, clipping it to her belt.

"I'll fix that later, time to see who's alive." Hauling herself out of her box, she took note of the echoing groan of the orange haired guy. Looking around, she paused, dumbstruck, red eyes taking in the view.

A city. Tall buildings, places of business, signs, cars, sidewalks and roads. All was a familiar sight. What was different was the state of things.

There were no burned out husks of architecture, no rusted cars, skeletons dotting the landscape. Everything faded to the same grey color scheme. No, this place was alive. Cars were driving, people were walking, well, some where, others were staring.

And then the growling started.

Looking behind her, down the hole, Jane had to dodge when something large and black came dashing out.

"Jesus Christ! The hell is that thing!" Ducking another creature, she grabbed her sword. Her pistol was down to it's last magazine, and with the exception of the 20 round shotgun mag, she had 12 shots left on that.

"It's a Grimm!" shouted the small girl that yanked her into this mess.

"What?" she screamed back, leveling the shotgun.

 _Single shots, can't waste them!_

Firing, she was shocked when the creature went down, seemingly already dead. Firing another, she proceeded to kill 11 more of the creatures, all resembling a twisted version of a Werewolf. Discarding her shotgun, since it was now extra weight and exchanging the mags would take too much time. Drawing the pistol, it was significantly less effective, requiring several shots to take out one. Around her, the area was slowly descending into chaos.

In more ways than one.

The small girl was using a giant scythe to kill these things, apparently firing an integrated rifle and using said recoil to fly around. The blond one was using what Jane could only describe as shotgun fists to punch everything. The black haired girl was using a sword mounted to a pistol with surprising effectiveness. And the white haired girl-

Was using fucking magic.

It was around this time that Jane started to develop a twitch in her left eye.

There was fucking magic. Looking closely, she was dumbfounded, seeing what could only be described as fantasy unfolded before her.

Giant airships and robotic soldiers fell from the sky. Flaming coffee thermos, a blunderbuss with a double bladed axe on the end.

"Fuck it, I'm doing what I'm doing. Get over here you orange haired pansy!" Tearing the lid off, Jane reached in, hauling the moaning figure out. It was obvious at some point he had used his coat to tie off his leg, stopping the blood flow.

Dragging the figure through the street, she approached the group of robotic and human soldiers, having swept in to save the day.

Tossing the orange haired man towards them, she spun around, facing the group from before.

"One crazy mastermind, hand delivered. Now would someone tell me what's going on!" With the combat over, the focus was on her.

She promptly raised both hands as about 30 of the surviving robots raised their guns, aiming for her.

On a good day she could probably take them, armed to the teeth and whatnot. Now? Probably not. Only a sword, tired, and honestly pissed, she probably wouldn't survive.

Blowing a lock of hair from her eyes, she grinned. "Well this will be fun!"

* * *

 **I do not own RUBY or Fallout 3. All works belong to their respective creators.**


	2. Interrogation

_Fire roared in the distance. Bullets flew, lasers pierced the air in bright red blasts, plasma burned a straight line path towards it's destination._

 _Adam's Air Force Base. The final stronghold of the Enclave. Jane darted up, avoiding the enemy fire. Far behind her Brotherhood troops supported her, keeping the heavy artillery pinned so she could get inside. Technically she should have an infiltration team, but with Sarah still out of the game the Lion's Pride couldn't act._

 _Entering an access hatch on the side of the monstrous creation, Jane dashed through the halls. Armor piercing shotgun slugs turned power armored troops into lifeless forms. Her pistol barked, causing lesser armored targets to jerk, pirouetting on the spot, falling to the ground._

 _She had to get to the top. That's where the orbital codes were. From there she could take this damned place out and cause the satellite to destroy itself. Firing another round, the head of a Tesla trooper exploded, helmet making sparking sounds._

 _That's why she liked her armor. The stormcoat had ballistic weaving to help deflect bullets. Ceramic plates underneath dispersed the energy from any laser blasts. The plasma could be dodged. Slow moving crap._

 _Some of the officers began to run, seeing they couldn't kill her. Already she could hear the screams, the cries of terror. A feral grin overtook her masked face._

 _Up a flight of stairs. A few rounds, 2 dead. Another flight, nobody. A third flight, 3 power armored troops. 2 shots for suppressing fire, a plasma grenade down the hall._

 _Breaking open a door, she smiled. The control room. Noticing the officers, she unloaded the rest of her pistol, headshots taking them out. Stepping over, she hauled a headless corpse off of the control panel, seeing the targeting information._

 _Rather than hacking it herself, Jane pulled a cable from her pip-boy. Slotting it into an empty port, she spoke._

" _Liberty, burn this base in holy fire!" A deep, gravely robotic tone responded._

" _Affirmative! Targeting Communist Structure! Alert, firing procedure in progress. Target: Pentagon!"_

 _Jane paled._

" _No no no! Stop it! Change the coordinates! Don't let that satellite fire!" she screamed. The red light on her pip-boy, a solitary ball bouncing left and right responded._

" _Solid state rockets already firing. Sequence cannot be aborted! Sending evacuation protocals!"_

 _Were the system still working, the warning sirens at the Citadel would have started up. 200 years of age had destroyed the mechanisms for that however._

 _Looking at the horizon, she could only gasp as a bright light blossomed into existence._

* * *

Her eyes snapped open. It had been only a few months since that incident, but it was still fresh in her mind. Her crimson eyes snapped back and forth.

Oh yes, she was a prisoner. Or a guest. Honestly it depended.

It was stark, with only a bed in the corner, functioning toilet to once side, and a bright light above. Her armor and weapons had been confiscated, the white skin where the pip-boy should be almost glowing compared to the tanned, scarred flesh everywhere else.

And yet, the bed was new, not stained by fluids or materials of an unknown nature. The clothes were soft, so soft. The food was _amazing_ , even compared to her vault days. And there hadn't been one interrogation yet. And she got to shower!

"Even if it's a prison, this has to be a very nice prison. Didn't even get this good back in the vault," she said aloud. Somebody had to be listening.

She leaned back, head resting against the wall while she sat on the bed, recounting how she got here.

First she was taken prisoner by the robots. Roman, the orange haired guy, was dragged away on a medical stretcher to the awaiting airship.

"Heh, airships. Those are fucking cool," she laughed.

At gunpoint she was told to disarm herself, one of the robots taking her pistol, sword and multitude of knives. Her shotgun was lost in the fray. Hopefully it hadn't been destroyed. That would be problematic.

Then she was given these orange clothes and a _fresh_ set of underwear, apparently never worn by anybody. That experience alone told her she should cooperate. Fresh clothes were awesome.

Using the showers, she had cleaned the blood from her armor while also cleaning herself. After all, if it wasn't cleaned, it would stink forever. Although, it already kinda did. She did growl at the cracked optic. That would need fixing.

And then a quartet of robots led her to her cell, where she sat, cross legged on the bed.

"It's been what, 3 hours? How soon until I get let out? I did nothing wrong!" she shouted to the empty cell. Having spent the first half hour attempting escape, she had to admit, it was pretty secure. Amazing what a lack of 200 years of decay did to security systems.

Her eyes flicked over to the door, seeing it slide up. Closing them, she ignored whomever walked in. This was how it started. Friendly words, then harsh ones.

"Well well Ms. Freewrite, I must say, you've caused quite a stir. Not every day a figure saves one of my students with no background, no history, and strange technology never before seen."

Students?

Jane cracked an eye open, the red orb glaring balefully at the figure.

Green wool suite, grey hair, glasses, a cane, brown leather shoes. A cane.

She tensed. This man was dangerous. The way he fingered his cane, held his mug. He had a half dozen ways to incapacitate her already.

He chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. "No need to be frightened of an old man such as myself," he stated.

Jane didn't laugh, but she didn't stop looking.

Seeing she didn't respond, he continued. "Depending on whom you ask, the story of Ms. Rose' rescue plays very differently. Ms. Rose says you took out the White Fang guards right before things could have escalated. Her experience with Mr. Torchwick being a catalyst for whatever might have happened."

Again, Jane didn't respond.

The man took a drink. "Her sister, Ms. Xiao Long would argue different. She states that a mysterious figure started shooting, and it was only her timely intervention and the assistance of Doctor Oobleck that prevented you from killing Ms. Rose."

The corner of Jane's mouth twitched.

"You find that funny? Might I ask why?" He took a sip.

Silence. Jane was an immovable wall.

The man sighed. "You should know that depending on how this goes, live could turn out very differently for you. Should I support you, you could avoid dealing with the military. Personally I'm not a fan, but they do like prosecuting people. And even if you turned in Torchwick, you could be seen as an accomplice."

Another sip.

"On the other hand, I say nothing, and you become something of an anomaly. Technology completely unknown, running off of a different scientific principle. No name, no registration. The military would shuffle you to one of their arctic research bases kept below ground, never to see the light of day. You would probably be pumped full of drugs, forced to divulge your knowledge, all in the name of state security."

Another sip. More silence.

"Fair enough, you've made your choice." Turning to leave, he snapped his fingers. The door began sliding open.

"You're not who pretend to be." The man paused. Gesturing at the door, it closed again.

"Come again?" he asked.

"You come in here, pretending to be an old man, past his prime. You hold your cane in a ready grip. The groove by the handle tells me there's a hidden blade. Your mug is old. There's a crack on the side, and the handle is well worn. I wouldn't be shocked if the ceramic broke to reveal knuckle dusters. But most of all _teach,_ is that your eyes haven't left mine. Most look at the hands, the feet, they look for twitches. No, you look at my eyes." Leaning forward, a feral grin lit upon her face.

"You know war, death. You've killed. You're dangerous." She leaned back, eyes alight.

"And you know I am as well," she finished.

The man paused. A sip.

"Was I that obvious?" he chuckled.

Jane took a while to respond. "I saved _Ms. Rose,_ as you call her. Roman was talking about toying with her. Me being the upstanding person I am I couldn't let that happen. _Ms. Xiao Long_ and the rest of her buddies seem to think shooting people is a bad thing and doing so endangers her sister."

The man nodded.

"Yes, that was one thing that was brought up. While I will shed no tears over the deaths of terrorists' intent on killing innocent people, I do question the ease of which you killed them, with seemingly no remorse."

Jane openly laughed at that. "Really? That's the question? Honestly, after the first dozen or so kills, it's just easy. And besides, when literally everything tries to kill you, you either die or you adapt. Problem with that?" she taunted. The man frowned.

"Perhaps I am missing something here, although I have a suspicion. Explain to me just how you came to be in the depths of Mount Glenn, seemingly at the right time?"

Jane paused, thinking about it. And then she explained.

"You've not given me your name." The man paused mid sip.

"Yes, I suppose I haven't." Another sip.

Jane frowned. Fine, that's how it was going to go.

"What is the most destructive, singular weapon available.?" The man narrowed his eyes. There was a period of tense silence.

"The main gun on an Atlas Dreadnaught. The Dust enhanced shot can level an area almost 400 meters wide, depending on the type." The man proceeded to sip some more coffee, but had to stop at Jane's reaction.

She laughed. It was a gut wrenching, bowed over, gripping her ribs through the orange prison suite laugh. She laughed so hard tears fell from here eyes, hair falling around her face. She must have laughed for a solid 5 minutes. Laughing at the sheer incredulity of the statement.

And then she stopped. Reaching a hand up, she used the heel of her hand to wipe away a tear.

"Tell me, what if I told you of a weapon so destructive, so powerful, it could level a city almost 2 kilometers in any direction of the blast radius. That the heat from this weapon could burn the image of a human being into concrete, turning their form into ash. And what if this weapon could poison the land, the air, the water for thousands of years, rendering it all but inhospitable to life. What would you say?"

For once, the man didn't sip his drink.

"I would wonder why a weapon was ever made. I suppose I would also question just how this is relevant."

Jane nodded, a grin pulling at the corner of her mouth.

"In my world, and trust me dear Professor, I am from another world, this weapon did exist. We called it an atomic bomb." Seeing that he didn't react, she continued.

"The weapon functioned on the principle of tearing apart atoms, the building blocks of the universe. A single bomb the side of a human being could level an entire city. Radiation, a side effect of this bomb, pollutes the land, turning what wasn't an impact zone into an inhospitable deathscape. Death from radiation isn't preferable. Your body literally falls apart over a period of time, depending on exposure. Now imagine a world where the entire world built these weapons in incalculable amounts, and in mere pride, fired them, burning the earth in the fires of creation, wiping life off the face of the earth."

She grinned, seeing his shocked expression.

"The sum of human history, all his triumphs, failures, trials, all rendered into so many words in a book inside of a span around two hours. The only significant human population survived deep below the earth, in vaults, designed to keep people safe."

The man nodded. "If something like this existed, then I can see-"

"But that's not all!" she interjected, voice raising. The man paused, not used to being interrupted.

"These vaults were never expected to be used! Instead, the company, Vault-Tec, built them for social experiments, scientific endeavors! There were hundreds of these vaults! Hundreds! And yet, only a handful were control vaults, functioning as advertised!"

Silence stretched.

"Social experiments?" he queried, almost hesitantly. Jane was only to happy to oblige.

"Vault 87. A monument to human arrogance. Citizens were brought in and exposed to a chemical formula designed to force the evolution of humanity, hopefully reaching the peak of human potential. Instead, it created mindless, 7 to 8 foot tall beings who could only feel anger, rage, and pain. These monsters, mutants as we called them, escaped into the wasteland. The aforementioned radiation actually heals them, making them faster, stronger, and smarter. Long lived mutants could actually grow into almost 30 feet monstrosities."

Seeing his alarm, she pressed on, crimson eyes never leaving his.

"Vault 92 wanted to create super soldiers. Great musicians were invited, but white noise was blasted over the speakers, implanting thoughts and motivations into the minds of these creative souls. After only a few months, the citizens went crazy, literally tearing each other with their bear hands in a blood crazed fury. Vault 101, my vault, was somewhat tame. We grew up in a dictatorship, with a heavily armed police force."

She could see his fear, his worry, wondering what mad world she came from.

"In my vault, the phrase 'You are born in the vault, you shall die in the Vault' was common place. Vault 112 however was one of the worst. Inside, there were relatively few residents, but they were kept alive in a computer simulation, killed and toyed with endlessly before resetting their very minds, all at the behest of a mad scientist thinking himself a god."

She grinned, seeing him pale, putting the mug to his side.

"And of course, we couldn't forget 106, good old 106, fond memories there," she started, closing her eyes and leaning back.

"Vault 106 was almost normal. No strange things, hidden rooms. Just good old fashioned 'let's see what happens.' After 10 days, psychoactive drugs were pumped into the air system. Slowly at first, but in greater quantities as time went on. Like 92, people were propelled into a blood rage, murdering each other for whatever reason. When I stumbled upon that vault, I needed something deep inside."

She paused, taking a breath.

"People were still there, surviving in weird, tribal like groups. Inbreeding had ruined them. They wouldn't have had another generation. Drugs were still, somehow, being pumped into the air. Descending deeper into the vault, it was a wonder I survived."

She breathed, shuddering slightly at the memories.

"Most of it is a blur. I ran out of bullets, so I used my guns to club them, beating them into bloody pulps. When the weapons fell apart, I used my fists. By the time I got to the surface, fresh air removing the drugs from my system, I had spent almost 3 weeks in the depths of that hell hole."

She opened an eye, looking at him. His hand was on his cane more forcefully.

"What's the matter, scared? That was a Tuesday in the Wasteland. The real shit hadn't even started then." She got to her feet, bare toes curling on the smooth concrete. The man shifted, his cane firmly in his hand, other hand now on the sheath, readying.

"I come from a world where man tore itself apart, bathing in the blood and the carnage. Where the last scraps of civilization fight for the trinkets of a dead world, where the secrets of that dead time threaten every living thing. If you didn't know how to kill another, you didn't live. It's a dog eat dog world there, I just survived."

She thoughtfully put her finger on her chin, her smile running from ear to ear, teeth bared.

"I wonder, since there are no Grimm on my world, it just proves the age old proverb; don't look under the bed for the monster, because we are already it."

The man turned, leaving the room quickly, the door sliding open and closing as quickly.

Jane just stood there, grinning, a hand brushing her hair away. Raising her voice, she yelled.

"You'll be back Ozpin! I know it!"

Already a few steps away, the man, Ozpin, spun around, looking at the cell guarded by two Knights. His eyes narrowed.

* * *

Jane wasn't sure how long she sat there. Food was presented, she ate a little, and was taken away. If they were feeding her three times a day, then it had been almost a week.

Beyond the food and footsteps sometimes walking by, she had nothing to do. Escape was impossible, and asking for reading material never garnered a response. Pity.

It was day 8, as marked by the scratches on the wall, when the door slid open, and Ozpin walked back in. He looked to the top of the toilet, seeing his mug where he had left it. He frowned.

"Told ya," grinned Jane. She was laying on the bed, one arm crossed over her eyes.

"How did you know it was me?" he asked, curious.

"Two steps and a clunk from your cane. You stood outside the door for about a minute. You've been to this area 3 times now. And besides, you forgot your mug."

Silence.

"Tell me, why did you save my students." Jane frowned.

"Did we not go over that last time?" She cursed. "Of course, this is how you'll break me, ask me the same questions over and over. What's next, no pasta in my meals?" Ozpin narrowed his eyes.

"I would not condone the torture of prisoners, despite their background. I ask because it was a reason you gave but not _your_ reason."

A rare frown danced across her face.

"Perceptive, aren't you?" He didn't respond, only looked at her, hand firmly on his cane.

"If you _must_ know, it's because she reminded me of myself when I was young. Alone, afraid." She paused, finding the right words.

"Weak."

Ozpin reached over grabbing his mug, noting it was empty.

"Tell me," he started, resuming his stance. "If you were let go, what would you do? How would you progress from this situation?"

"Well, I'd probably suit up and head out, explore this world. I'm a Wanderer at heart. Probably take up contract jobs, see about killing these Grimm." Ozpin grinned slightly.

"What's got you pleased?" she asked, still resting with an arm over her eyes.

"What if I told you my school accepts transfer students?"

"Aren't I a little old for school?" she half asked, half laughed.

"Beacon Academy is limited only by skill. First year students tend to be around 17 years of age, but it's not unheard of for students younger or older to start."

Jane shook her head slightly, swinging herself up into a cross-legged position.

"Sorry Ozzy, already did the school thing. Test told me I was to be a technician."

Ozpin frowned.

"Oh, the G.O.A.T. test. 12 years of formal education followed by an aptitude test. The result telling you what your job in the vault was." Ozpin nodded, an odd chill going down his spine at the mention of vaults.

"At Beacon, we teach students how to fight the Grimm. They are taught history, language. Combat is an essential part, as well as learning to function as a team. Upon graduation, the students gain their Hunter's licence and are permitted to roam the world, hunting Grimm as needed, preserving Humanity."

Jane snorted. "Sounds like something from a comic. Besides, I work alone." An odd tone entered her voice, as if she wasn't quite present. Ozpin watched, seeing her almost stop perceiving the room, reliving memories.

"There's a reason I am called the Lone Wanderer," she spoke. Shaking her head, she regained her senses. Anger pulled itself across her face, knowing the almost stranger saw her in a moment of weakness.

"Put it this way Ms. Freewrite, accept my offer and I can assure you, you won't lack for opportunities. I can't promise it won't be boring, but you will enjoy it. New world, fresh start?" he questioned, smile in his voice.

Jane mulled the choice over. He was right. New world, new start. Perhaps her innate need to help people would turn out better now that the world wasn't balanced on quite as thin of a knife as the Wasteland was. Besides, school could be fun again. Glancing at the wall, she looked at the 8 scratch marks on the wall.

"Fuck it, why not. Could be fun!" she cried. Ozpin frowned.

"Course language isn't permitted at Beacon." Jane lowered her head dramatically.

"You're not making this easy," she grumbled. Getting to her feet, she grinned when he backed up a half step. He didn't quite trust her. The intent was obvious. She would be watched. She wasn't home free just yet.

"I'll want my gear back, weapons and all," she started. Jane paused at the look that entered his eyes.

"What?" Growling, her hands curled into fists. Ozpin just replied calmly.

"While the gear you were arrested with is with us, the rifle like object you were using was never retrieved. After the cleanup occurred, we weren't able to locate it."

Surprisingly, Jane nodded, hands unclenching, a relaxed look on her face.

"To be honest, I was going to swap it out with something a little more heavy handed later on anyways." She glared at him. "But you're footing the bill."

Ozpin nodded. "Beacon has onsite facilities so that you might design and build various weapons. Students use the facilities to build or maintain the non standard weaponry they use to fight the Grimm.

Ozpin would swear for years that what he saw next scared him to his core. Across the woman's face leapt a look of sadistic glee. Crimson eyes alight, grey silver hair almost glowing with glee. It was the face of a madman unbound, of evil given shape.

It was also the face Ruby Rose got when describing her weapon.

"I think," she began, pure sadistic joy in her tone. "That this is the beginning of a wonderful partnership!" she laughed, exiting the room, leaving Ozpin to fear what he had unleashed upon the world.

"Damn, another weapon's freak," he muttered, stepping swiftly, following the Wastelander.

In the coming months and years, he would find himself wondering if what he did was right, bringing this figure from another world into Remnant.

* * *

 **I do not own RWBY or Fallout 3. All works belong to their respective creators.**

 **Yes, shorter chapter. Next one will be larger.**


	3. Unusual Circumstances

_A figure stalked through the night. Clothed in black, traversing the burn, scarred ground, it deftly maneuvered away from rad zones and cracks in the earth. If it wasn't for the moonlight above, you wouldn't be able to see the figure._

 _Except for the two Brahmin following her._

 _The classic beast of burden, it fulfilled a many varied purposes in the wasteland. It was a pack mule, a source of food, source of milk. Easy to breed and docile as hell, it was one of the few things the people of the wasteland could rely on for their survival._

 _Currently the small group were heading to a nearby cave system. Most weren't aware of it's existence, and the few that new of it were sworn to secrecy or dead._

 _Jane, leading the caravan of one, kept a hand on her shotgun, swinging gently under her coat. Her eyes scanned the horizon, silver optics letting her see what nobody else could. Wary of any dangers, she let her body run on autopilot._

 _It was hours later that she arrived at a cave. Gently pulling the Brahmin into the cavern, she clicked a light on her helmet, illuminating the path. It wasn't long until she came to a wall, constructed of old signs, car panels and earth. On the top, there was a soft yellow light._

" _Halt! Who's there!" shouted a voice, high pitched and slightly squeaky. A child._

" _It's just me McCready!" replied Jane, removing her helmet and hooking it to her waist._

" _Jane!" Spinning around the kid rang a bell. "Hey guys! It's Jane!" Immediately a few more lights lit up on the other side of the wall. Twisting a wheel, the gate opened, raising up enough that Jane only had to duck her head to enter. The two beasts of burden followed._

" _I brought supplies! Fresh water, food, ammunition, everything a group of children would need to survive a winter!" The assembled children cheered, dressed in a mashup of clothing and armor._

 _For the next few hours Jane chatted and laughed with the children of Little Lamplight, telling them exaggerated tales of her travels, getting grins from their faces. The kids new it was harsh out there, but her stories broke up the monotony of the days. She didn't tell them, but there were books and magazines in one of the saddlebags, hopefully enough to keep them entertained as the winter froze over the land, turning it into an even more harsh landscape._

" _Well, it's been fun, but I've still got things to do," she lamented, getting to her feet from the camp fire. The kids pouted, some whining, others just wandering off trying to look cool._

" _Keep the Brahmin, they might be useful later on," she told McCready. The kid nodded, his army helmet sliding all over his head._

" _Gotcha! Where you off to now?" he asked, following her to the exit. Jane patted the heads of a few kids on the way out, a soft smile delighting her face._

" _There's been a call on the radio. Looks like Enclave are still prowling around. The must have a base somewhere. I'm going to try and find it." The kid frowned._

" _Why don't the Brotherhood do anything about it?" he asked, stopping just outside the gate._

" _Well," she began. "The brotherhood are too busy touting that giant robot of theirs, using it for glorified guard duty. The Lion's Pride is still out, not willing to move without Sarah."_

 _The small child frowned. "Is Sarah still unconscious?" Jane nodded._

" _How did you survive anyways? Radiation kills everything, and somehow you survived!" Jane paused. She knew exactly how she survived. Letting the silence stretch, her fist clenched, forcing down the words, the feeling that came to mind._

" _Goodbye Mayor, I'll see if I can't come by after the ice melts. I figure this is my last trip this year. Wind has gotten very cold." McCready nodded, knowing she didn't want to talk about it. Jane smiled softly, wrapping him in a hug. Kids were far more preferable to adults. So much more honest._

" _Bye Jane!" he exclaimed, heading back in. She headed out, listening as the gate lowered. Knowing she had done some good, she smiled softly, slipping her helmet and mask on, sealing her away from the elements. Pulling the grey scarf up and over the respirator, she headed out, one hand dropping to her shotgun, the other resting gently on her sword._

 _The Wasteland was calling, and Jane could do nothing but answer._

* * *

Ruby darted around a corner, a soft fluttering of rose petals falling to the ground behind her.

This was the sublevel of Beacon, where weapon maintenance and fabrication could occur. She had heard that a new student was joining Beacon this week. At first it was rumors, but Ozpin had taken her aside and informed her, asking that she act as a sort of guide for the new person, showing them around the school. Ruby had of course accepted on the spot, and was firmly set on rounding up her team and make it a team activity.

Yang was heading into Vale for shopping. Something about running out of hair product. Blake went with having run out of books. Weiss apparently wanted to do some studying for the test. With her team not being present, Ruby was safe to deflate a little.

She wasn't team leader for nothing. She knew they were all feeling down since the Grimm invasion. All of them felt they weren't up to the task, that they had failed in some capacity. Despite her attempts to win them over, she had to admit, had they done just a little better, been a little faster, they might have been able to stop the train, or lessen the damage even.

So, since the rest of her team were avoiding each other, she decided to say hello to the new student, at least make something of the day. It was the weekend, so at least there was that.

Turning another corner, approaching the weapon fabrication department, she paused when she heard music. Straining her ears, she listened. It was entirely different from what she was used to, or even what she had ever heard. Soft tone, a piano, and a low dulcet voice echoed out of the room.

 _~Wish on the moon_

 _And look for the golden rainbow_

 _And you'll find, happy times.~_

Peaking her head around the corner, she paused, not sure what to do.

The music was coming from a strange brown metal device, propped on one side on a table. On a green toned screen, white lines flew, obviously a representation of sound waves. Some kind of radio?

Lying on the same table was a heavy looking black coat, part of it's length hanging over the edge. Its material wasn't glossy, as if light didn't escape its presence. On top though was a helmet and mask that was more than recognizable.

Flicking her eyes, she stared, paling slightly.

The woman from the train! She was there! At Beacon! How? She was arrested! She couldn't be the student!

There stood Jane, grey hair tied up behind her head. She was facing away from the door, working on something. Her upper body was covered in what looked like a new shirt, something she recognized from Atlas as a very basic design. Her pants were the same style as the coat, black and armored. The boots were massive, reaching almost her knees and covered in chipped metal black plates, the feet being almost entirely metal. Staring, she saw the woman swaying side to side with the beat of the music, unaware.

Ruby dashed back, leaving a silhouette of rose petals. Her back pressed to the wall, she breathed slowly. How was she here!

Breaking out her scroll, she didn't notice when the music inside the room rose steadily, becoming much more obvious.

Tapping on her scroll, she sent a message to Yang.

- _Yang! The girl from the train is here! At Beacon! What do I do?-_

The reply was almost instantaneous.

 _-Get away from there! Blake and I are on our way back! We'll call the headmaster!-_

 _-Gotcha!-_

Putting away her scroll, Ruby paused. Well, she was distracted by whatever she was working on. Perhaps she should keep an eye on her? Just to make sure she doesn't vanish?

Stepping quietly, she peaked her head around the corner.

Wait, where did she go? Looking left and right, the woman was gone, seemingly vanished.

Stepping quietly into the room, the sound of the music louder than she remembered. Looking around, she wished she had Crescent Rose with her.

There was nobody. It was a single room with no other exit located below ground. She couldn't just disappear. And yet, she got the distinct feeling that there was something watching her. Something perhaps at the edge of her vision.

Stepping over to the table, she risked a glance at what was being worked on.

"Schematics?" she questioned, all of a sudden absorbed. If there was one thing that got her excited, it was guns. She looked at the design, seeing it was obviously some kind of blueprint, although unfamiliar.

The weapon was long, probably the same length as a mid range sniper rifle. It looked like some kind of open aired design, since the barrel was exposed to the air. Air cooling? That hadn't been needed in almost 40 years.

Belt fed, some kind of autogun then. She paused, seeing the ammunition specs.

"That's a big bullet," she mumbled.

The music clicked off.

Ruby spun, arms out ready to defend herself.

The woman stood there, leaning against the table. One arm was held over her chest, while the other reached over, hand on a dial of the weird music player.

Looking at her, Ruby got a better look.

Tall, perhaps 6 feet. The pants and boots were heavily armored, but obviously emphasized mobility. Her shirt was new; she could see the designer's logo over the left breast. Simple grey material, it was a collared shirt, fitting over her form but providing ease of movement.

Reaching her face, Ruby gasped. Calm red eyes stared into here, almost evaluating how to take her out. Yang's eyes, when red, were flaming, filled with anger, passion, _life!_ These eyes were cold, dead. Ruby couldn't help but shiver.

Those eyes, it was like she didn't exist. Like she wasn't even a concern. Those eyes were giving her the same consideration you might a lamp, or a carpet, rather than a human being.

"Yes, it's a rather large bullet. But it's effective." Jane walked, no, _stalked_ over to the desk, pulling the blueprint towards her. She looked at it, a grin pulling at her mouth.

"But Ozpin has promised that I can use these facilities to keep myself supplied and maintained. Perks of being a student I suppose," she continued, pulling up a chair.

Ruby's mental process paused.

Student?

"Wait, you're the new student?" she asked, hesitantly. Jane nodded.

"Yup. Apparently the old guy figured I would be a good fit. Or something," she drawled, a hand rotating in the air for emphasis.

"Problem with this weapon is the cooling. Design used an air cooler to keep it simple, but I tend to use it for melee as well, so it needs more strength in the barrel primarily." Her eyes narrowed, eyeing the schematics. There were other's she could use, but this was more the manner she was going for.

Ruby took a look. "I notice there's no Dust in the design. Why's that?" Fear abandoned, she asked Jane, a questioning look in her eye.

Jane had to pause. This was a kid. She wasn't trying to deceive her, no ulterior motive, just curiosity. She supressed a grin. Honestly, it reminded her of Lamplight. The kids there were always a highlight of her travels in the wasteland. So innocent.

"Well, this was never designed with Dust in mind. Never had it. And I've got no idea where to begin with that stuff," she replied. The girl's eyes lit up.

"You knowww," she drew out, looking at her hopefully. "I designed my own weapon, I could help modify it for you!" After all, how else to show the new student the cool things at Beacon?

Jane's eyes widened.

"You designed a weapon?" she asked skeptically, doubting the girl. A soft grin pulled at her mouth.

"Yup! It's a scythe crossed with a high impact sniper rifle!" Doubt flared in those red eyes. Ruby pouted.

"Wait right here!" she shouted, holding up a finger. In a puff of rose petals, she vanished, causing Jane no undue amount of fright.

"The fuck?" she half wondered, half shouted. Waving a hand where the girl had stood, she couldn't help but gape. People didn't move that fast. Hell, not even Deathclaw's could move that fast.

Another puff of roses and the girl reappeared, this time with a metal rectangular block composed of several red and black painted pieces. With a flourish, the weapon unfolded into massive scythe, with an integrated receiver midway through the shaft.

"Altlesian steel for the frame, Palladium rounds fired with red dust caps, carbon nanotube infused blade sharpened to perfection!" The girl's eyes developed an almost fanatical look to them.

"Seems impractical," was the curt response. Ruby felt a small part of her soul shatter.

"Well it works a hundred times better than whatever that thing is!" she exclaimed, pointing dramatically at the blueprints on the table. Jane smirked.

"Then how would you improve it?" she asked conversationally.

A gleeful look came over Ruby, mind already whirring, fear at the specter of death forgotten.

* * *

Yang bolted down the stairs, Blake and Weiss hot on her heels. They were racing towards the fabrication room, hoping to capture the woman from the train, somebody who must have snuck onto the campus!

Ruby should be waiting nearby, ready to lead them to her. She wouldn't have left, despite her warning. It just wasn't in Ruby's nature.

Turning the corner, the three girls gasped, seeing the now wilting rose petals dusting the hallway, leading into the room at the far end of the hallway.

"We've got to save her!" shouted Weiss, running ahead, rapier brandished and ready to invite a world of hurt upon the monster. All three bolted into the room, weapons raised, ready to fight. What they found caused them to freeze.

"So if you use a modified palladium round you could get fire speeds similar to the original, but with more impact!"

"Yes, that's true, but what's going to make them go fast enough? And remember, this uses a recirculating gas system to load the next round."

"Well, a mixture heavy on red dust but with a bit of blue would cause steam to form, but only in small amounts! That would also solve the majority of the heat issue!"

Ruby was standing in front of a giant interactive screen, a scan of some paper document pulled up on it. Wielding a pen almost dangerously, Ruby was making notes and annotations to the document. The woman from the train was leaning against a table, similar pen in hand.

"Strength is another; I like to use it as a club from time to time. I wouldn't want the barrel to bend and throw my aim off," she commented off handed.

"Steel for the barrel, it doesn't expand much when introduced to heat or pressure. The body though should be a titanium aluminum ore. It gives it strength but keeps it light."

"Not too light, it needs weight, preferably in the barrel."

"RUBY!" Both girls turned around seeing the new people.

"Yang! What's up?" Yang, gauntlets extended, ready in her fighting stance, just gestured to Jane.

"Oh. Right. She's good," Ruby nodded her answer, as if that fixed it all.

While Ruby and Yang continued to argue over the situation, Jane focused her attention on the black haired girl.

Unlike Yang or the white haired one, this one had a more familiar reaction. Pushing off of the table, Jane stepped forward, crossing the room slowly, aiming towards the black haired girl.

There was fear in her eyes. A primal look. Jane grinned, knowing exactly what that look was. The Faunus from the train had the same reaction, but she hadn't the time nor the inclination to study it. Now though, after several days in a cell and a few outside, she had placed it.

Back in the Wasteland, there were stories, tall tales about Jane. Of the more popular ones, there was one that always made her laugh.

The rumor went that during her travels, Jane happened upon a deathclaw. Most encounters with the largest nightmare of the wasteland ended in a bloody claw and one less human alive. The story however, painted a different picture.

The Deathclaw, seeing an apex hunter, a being more powerful than even itself, submitted itself to Jane, showing Jane to be the better beast. It was a story that emphasized just how fearsome and deadly she could be, that even the biggest creature the wasteland could throw at her knew it's place in the food chain.

Most considered it a tall tale, ramblings of drunks who sought to get free drinks, or children enamoured with her. And to an extent, that would be true. She hadn't found a deathclaw.

The deathclaw found her.

But the rest of the story was true. It had tried to sneak up on her, ready to disembowel her, feed on her body and proceed onwards. Instead, Jane had spun on the spot, facing the creature. A tense standoff and the creature had snorted, turning away and lumbering into the distance. Since that point, every other creature of the wasteland had given her a wide berth, never bothering or interacting with her. As if knowing she was an Alpha amongst Alpha.

This girl's reaction was similar.

The yelling between Yang and Ruby had petered off, seeing Blake and Jane confront eachother.

Jane merely stood an arm's length away, arms folded across her chest, staring dispassionately at the younger woman.

"Blake?" questioned Ruby, wondering what was wrong.

Almost a minute passed, the silence stretching into eternity. Crimson eyes stared into Gold, neither backing down.

"I know what you're feeling," began Jane, a soft grin pulling at her mouth.

"You feel it in your bones, a sense of respect. You don't know what I am, but you fear me, you respect me. You don't know why, but it compels you." Seeing the recognition in her eyes, Jane pressed.

"The Faunus on the train had a similar reaction. They couldn't explain it, and they feared it. It took me a few days, but I figured it out."

"What are you talking about?" Jane paused, looking left. The silver haired one had spoken. Her hair was similar to Jane's, but as if it had undergone a lifetime of care, versus hers, which had not had the luxury of care and maintenance.

"Where I come from, the wilderness did it's best to kill you. There exists a pecking order of sorts. Humans live at the bottom, right above Brahmin." At the questioning look, she elaborated.

"Stupid beast of burden. It's got two heads and makes an ok meal. Literally couldn't survive on it's own. Anyways, as I said, a pecking order. Some people, either in stories or reports, can establish themselves higher in that pecking order."

"Animals respect strength. Primal force, willpower, whatever you call it, it's the only way you can survive, by being strong. I'm guessing you're a Faunus, and despite being mostly human, the animal side calls, warning you of what I am."

Jane calmly stepped back as Yang stepped between her and the somewhat petrified Blake.

"Why are you here?" she growled, fists raised. Jane cocked an eyebrow.

"Didn't you hear?" she asked, mock joy in her voice. Pressing a hand to her chest, she exaggerated her next response, sounding like one of the silly idiots from the vault more concerned with hair.

"I'm a new student! I'm so excited to be here!" Weiss narrowed her eyes. While her sword wasn't raised still, it was still out.

"Why would Headmaster Ozpin let you attend? You were arrested!" Jane frowned at the attitude from the girl. Prissy and stuck up. It reminded her far too much of those assholes in Tenpenny tower.

She was about to respond when a new voice announced itself.

"Because Ms. Shnee, it was all a misunderstanding." The students turned around, noticing that the headmaster himself was now present. Jane quickly glanced left and right, noticing how the room was now somewhat cramped.

"But why! We saw her on the train! She killed those White Fang without any hesitation!" Ozpin turned to Yang, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Ms. Freewrite killed members of the White Fang, yes, that cannot be disputed." Seeing her about to talk he cut her off.

"It was also by those same White Fang members that there was a Grimm invasion in Vale for the first time in almost 70 years. 14 innocent citizens perished and there is millions of lien of damage still being repaired, some of which Beacon academy has offered to pay for." Seeing her deflate at the knowledge, he hammered his point home, this time in a softer tone.

"Ms. Long, a Huntress' duty is to protect the innocent. While her methods were more severe, we don't know how much worse the attack could have been. We know the White Fang are not above killing innocents to further their aim."

Jane had to marvel at Ozpin's ability to talk down people. Yang had looked about ready to punch someone. Now she just looked defeated. The other's in the room seemed to be affected by his speech.

Turning to Ruby he continued. "Ms. Rose, thank you for introducing yourself to our new student. I understand you've been helping redesign a weapon to replace Ms. Freewrite's long range option?" At that Ruby perked up.

"Yes! It's a different style, and the design seems dated, but adding Dust to it should be easy. It's more how she's going to be using it that needs some working on!" Ozpin smiled.

"Excellent. It pleases me to see my students helping those in need." Turning to observe the rest of the team, a thought crossed his mind.

Yang was a skilled fighter with a firm moral compass. Weiss, while being an heiress, certainly was a little more down to earth compared to some. Blake he was familiar with her history, ex white Fang and all. Ruby being the youngest had innocence to her, something that the world needed. This team he had high hopes for, but with a war coming, they needed to be tougher. They needed to be stronger. They needed to be better.

"In order to uphold the values our institution prides itself upon having, I am attaching Ms. Freewrite to team RWBY as an official member."

Yang's head snapped up, eyes glaring, her mind trying to decide between staring down Jane or Ozpin.

Ozpin merely smiled, especially at Jane's indignant look on her face. Spinning on his heel, he exited the room, speaking final words of encouragement.

"Best of luck! I hope this presents a good learning opportunity!"

His retreating footsteps echoed, leaving the new team alone in the slightly less cramped room.

Jane just resumed leaning against a table, pen spinning in her hand. Breaking the silence, she grinned.

"Well that happened."

* * *

Ruby stood outside a door. In and of itself the door wasn't special. There were several on either side of the hall, on the 4th floor of the dormitory wing of the school. Plain, brown, with gold trim on the raised sections adding a bit of flair to the design. The RWBY dorm room was further down the hall.

Up until recently this was an empty room, probably if there were larger class sizes. Now, it was a room for the new addition to team RWBY. Ruby pouted a little. It was a little unfair that she got her own room, since the rest of the team shared. But bunkbeds already stretched just how many people they could fit inside of one room.

Looking at her watch she sighed. Jane was going to be late for class. As team leader she had to set a good example. So, taking a breath, she knocked on the door.

The door opened, revealing Jane.

Her hair was cleaner, tied behind her head. Her uniform was, oddly enough, the male uniform, fitted to her more feminine form. Her hands, usually covered in machine grease and oil from the fabrication shop were scrubbed clean, nails clipped short. The only difference was the grey scarf around her throat.

"Yes?" she drawled, keeping the door half closed.

"Uh, class. We have class. Soon." Jane smirked, seeing the younger girl just stare at her. To be fair, the image was much difference compared to the usual outfit Jane wore.

"I feel like a monkey," complained Jane, tugging at the sleeves. "There isn't any padding, no places to store a gun, and it's restrictive," she cursed. Reaching up, she tugged the tie off, throwing it behind her. Grabbing a small bag emblazoned with the Beacon emblem, she walked out, locking the door.

"Where's your arm computer?" asked Ruby, walking with Jane towards class. The rest of the team had already headed out to class, not wishing to interact with Jane just quite yet. Being conscripted by the headmaster onto the team was an excellent way to foster animosity.

"Back in the room. These scrolls are quite handy. I've got it wirelessly hooked up to the pip-boy. Thing is just too heavy sometimes. So this class," she began. Ruby only perked up, eager to help out her new teammate.

"Look, I haven't done this school thing in a while, should I be aware of anything?" Ruby processed the question.

The usually confident, bordering on cocky personality of Jane wasn't as present, revealing a person a little more human, somebody with faults. She smiled, seeing the big bad warmonger that her sister didn't like could be related to.

"No, professor Port is probably going to ramble for a while. If you pay attention near the end you save yourself so much headache. These classes are mostly just lectures, so it's not too important. I suppose you should take some notes. The scroll is helpful." Jane nodded. So not too terribly different from the Vault. Obviously different curriculum.

"Oh I hope I don't regret this," she moaned. Turning the corner, Jane had to catch Ruby as she impacted on somebody, sending her flying back.

"Sorry!" exclaimed the young huntress in training. The person merely waved a hand.

"We should stop meeting like this Ruby," replied a voice. Jane's eyes narrowed.

"Oh! Cinder! I haven't seen you in a while! Are you heading to class?"

Jane looked at the figure. A black uniform, trimmed in white. Blazer crossed with a simple skirt and heeled shoes, it was the presence that caused Jane to be on edge.

This woman was different.

"Yes, but I found myself lost. The school is a little confusing for a transfer such as myself," she responded, cheer in her voice. Her eyes drifted to Jane.

"I believe we haven't met yet, are you a friend of Ruby's?" she asked.

"Teammate, actually. New student." Curt, short, to the point. This was a manipulator. A short interaction and she was already playing Ruby. She could see it.

"Oh, that's unusual! How will that work with the festival coming up?" Jane was an aberration to whatever plans were in action. This woman was dangerous, she had killed.

But why was she at the school?

"Well, I had planned to let the other three members compete normally. I'm not familiar enough with the team just yet. No need to complicate things," she replied, stressing the second sentence.

"Ahh. Well it was nice meeting you, but I should be going! Goodbye Ruby!" And without waiting for a response, the woman left, leaving Ruby confused and Jane on guard.

"Who is she?" asked Jane, watching the retreating figure, wishing she had some weapon on her. The encounter left her on edge.

"Oh, she's a transfer from Mistral for the festival. Every year the festival is held in a different kingdom, and competing students temporarily attend classes and continue the education leading up to the festival." Jane nodded.

Checking her scroll, Ruby gasped. "Jane! We're going to be late! Let's hurry!" Grabbing her arm, Jane had to marvel at the feeling of being dragged forcefully by a girl about half her size towards a class.

Well, weirder things had happened in the Wasteland. That said, this might be in the top ten.

* * *

Jane had to marvel at the differences between the wasteland and this place.

"So you're telling me the school pays for the food as well?" Ruby nodded.

"I don't pay a thing?" Another nod.

Jane almost laughed. "Shit, this is awesome." Loading up on food that wasn't the least bit irradiated, mutated, or rotting, she sat down happily next to her 'team', diving in.

The rest of team RWBY looked at her, still unsure of how to interact with the new person. Yang felt like punching her, but the reality of what Ozpin had said was still weighing heavily on her. Blake, due to her heritage, just couldn't be at ease around the wastelander. Weiss simply didn't trust Jane, for whatever reason.

"So, Jane, how was your first class?" asked Ruby, trying to get the conversation flowing.

Jane, finishing a bite of what had to be the best sandwich she had ever tasted, responded bluntly.

"Port's blusterous personality ruined almost every minute of that class. If it wasn't for the recap near the end summarizing the points I would honestly wonder why he was employed in such a 'respected' institution," she drawled, taking another bite.

Weiss snorted at that. Her opinion of the respected but older professor fell along similar veins to Jane's opinion.

"He can be weird like that. But his lessons are actually informative," replied Blake somewhat icily. Jane shrugged, diving back into her food.

Conversation slowed down, a mixture of people enjoying food and people unable to start a conversation with Jane, for several reasons.

Like why all the Faunus were doing their best to avoid the half of the cafeteria that Jane resided in.

Polishing off her plate of sandwiches, Jane wiped her mouth with a nearby napkin. Let it be known that a murderous incarnation of death she might be, but she was raised with good manners.

"You know, perhaps this school thing isn't so bad," she contemplated aloud, chin resting on one hand.

Yang, attempting to be conversational with Jane, if only because she was warming up with her sister, brought out her scroll.

"So looks like we've got combat class next. You going to participate?" Yang had to admit, getting the chance to see how Jane fought in a non life threatening scenario could be interesting.

A small smirk pulled at Jane's face. "Could be fun."

* * *

 **I do not own RWBY or Fallout 3. All works belong to their respective creators.**

 **Yes, this was slow, painful, and off beat. But I felt it was needed. Helps set the stage as it were.**


	4. Will you Burn this too?

_The water lapped at the docks, rotten wood groaning slightly every now and then, the small shack resting there. A few lamps were lit, providing a soft glow, shadows dancing off of the figures standing around._

 _The primary one, gently carving away with a knife on a chunk of wood, a hunting rifle leaning against the structure. A middle aged woman, her hair brown and stringy, wearing a simple cloth shirt and Brahmin skin pants._

 _Nearby, conversing quietly, were two figures armed somewhat heavily with laser rifles, power armor glinting dully in the morning light. Black eyepieces simply swept back and forth, keeping an eye on things._

 _It had been almost 5 weeks since the Lone Wanderer had set out to rescue Catherine's daughter, and every day the woman sat there, carving away. Some days she carved small crosses. Other's she would carve small wooden medallions for the Brotherhood soldiers who happened to assigned to guard her dock._

 _They started showing up after the first week. Only intermittently. Now it was every day, for several hours._

 _She looked up as one of the soldiers walked over, their heavy armor thumping gently against the wooden planks. She laid the knife down, looking the figure in the face._

" _May I help you?" Her voice was tired, worn. Many nights of crying and worrying for her daughter had drained her. The woman was running off of her last vestiges of energy._

" _Perhaps you should rest ma'am. If we can't see the boat by now, it won't be until tomorrow that they could arrive." The knight gently put the oversized metal gauntlet on the woman's shoulder. She seemed to deflate at that, hands draping to her side._

" _I suppose," she spoke, not at all persuaded. The knight frowned below his mask. Removing his hand, he scanned the horizon._

" _Ma'am, we've got to continue our patrol. We'll be back in the morning." She only nodded. Gesturing to his ally, the two began to head out upriver, ready to unleash hell unto the mutant scum._

 _Heading down the river, the two knights met little resistance, only some ghouls and a trader caravan. Ever since project Purity got up and running, fresh water was helping heal the land somewhat. It was amazing what fresh water could do._

" _Should we head back?" The knight, Petterson, turned to Jefferies. Despite the armor and mask, he knew Jefferies could read his questioning stance._

" _She didn't look right. I'm worried she might take her life," he elaborated. Petterson nodded._

" _It's possible. Since Paladin Jane cleared this all out the muties have been slow to repopulate. I don't think it would be too much of an issue to call it clear and head back," mused Petterson, eyes scanning the horizon. Stopping at the coast, his eyes narrowed._

" _What's that?" Pointing, Jefferies spun around. Fumbling with his helmet, he yanked it off, bringing up a pair of binoculars to his eyes, looking at the object._

" _It's a boat!" he exclaimed, jaw hanging. Petterson stormed over, grabbing the binoculars. Swapping his helmet for the device, he took a look._

 _It was definitely a boat. Larger, with a canopy on top. Smoke drifted from the back, evidence of some kind of motor. It trundled along easily, wake turning the greenish blue waters white temporarily._

 _Pulling them away, he reached into his bag, grabbing a scope. While most scopes were mounted upon their guns, it was useless to use a scope capable of 200x magnification. Better to use it as a makeshift telescope than mount it on a gun._

 _His heart almost stopped._

 _On the prow of the boat stood a familiar figure. Dressed in a black stormcoat, helmet and mask bolted onto the waist with a sword on the other side, stood Paladin Jane Freewrite, probably the best example of recruiting outsiders. Except, she was different._

 _She stood atop the prow, balanced despite the rocking of the ship. Hands held at her sides horizontally, hands splayed, she looked forward._

 _Pulling the eyeglass away, he adjusted it, increasing the zoom. Ignoring the cries of Jefferies asking to see, he instead watched, withholding the urge to shout._

 _Blood ran off of her figure, dried and cracked. Her coat had the remains of_ something _on it, while the lens of one eye on her helmet seemed cracked. But it was her face he froze at._

 _Eyes alight with an emotion he could not place, a demented grin pulling her mouth open almost painfully, as if she was laughing at some sick joke. Her hair was stained red with the blood, wind pulling it gently across her form._

 _He paused when she started to move and looked_ straight at him. _Wondering if she could honestly see him, he could only watch as one of her arms slowly pointed towards him, hand curling into a fist, index and middle finger aimed ahead._

" _Almost like a-" He didn't get the chance to finish as she mimed firing a gun._

 _His scope cracked, the glass shattering into a thousand fragments. The metal casing ripped outwards, deformed by an imaginary force. Fragments smashed into the earth, cutting deeply, while more than a few glass shards deflected off of Jefferies armor._

" _Fuck! Sniper!" he screamed, throwing away the now destroyed scope. Smashing his helmet on he dived for cover._

" _Get to the dock! We'll radio en-route!" shouted Petterson, already running back the way they came._

 _Jefferies seemed only to glad, thinking it was mutants or raiders. Petterson wasn't sure what to think, only knowing that he had to get to the docks and confront the Paladin and ask exactly what the fuck was going on._

 _Arriving just outside the dock, they prepared to storm the area when a brilliant green flash erupted, turning night into hellish green day._

 _Covering his eyes against the light, even through the polarizing filter, he was glad for the armor negating the pressure wave._

 _When the green light cleared, there was only the orang glow of fire. Bolting forward as fast as his armor could go, Petterson stopped, a spike of horror driving into his soul._

 _Paladin Jane stood there, fire curling around her form, yet not damaging her. In her right hand, held slightly off the ground was Catherine. In her right was a short knife, it's polished blade shining in the firelight of the night._

 _Before he could do anything Jane plunged the knife into Catherine's forehead, the weak struggle of the woman ceasing. It was almost poetic, her suffering for so long put to an end by the same person she had sought out to help._

 _Throwing the corpse to the ground, Jane started to walk forward, towards where Petterson and now Jefferies stood, the light doing strange things to the armor._

" _Stop right there Paladin!" exclaimed Jefferies, aiming his rifle at Jane. Petterson was about to point the gun down, scolding the recruit when Jane did it for him._

 _Specifically, she crossed almost 15 feet in a split second, wrenching the gun from his hands and breaking it between her hands, snapping it in two like so much driftwood._

" _Nobody can go back," she grinned, that same, feral grin pulling her face open. "Nobody can go back to the land God forgot," she continued, pushing past the now scared recruit._

 _Seeing her continue onwards, Petterson tried one more time to stop her._

" _What happened there Paladin Jane?" he shouted. She paused, head turning to look behind her, one red eye almost boring a hole through his helmet._

" _God hath forsaken the land," she began, eyes closing, that same grin pulling at her face._

" _And those that God forsaketh found a refuge," she finished, feet taking her away. Petterson didn't dare follow her, Jefferies wisely doing the same. Watching her figure retreat, he felt like praying to the gods of the old world, seeing white mist roll up from the water, enshrouding the area, concealing her form from view._

 _The two stood there, the cooling corpse and burning ship the only company, unable to come to terms with what had happened._

 _The report filed would only state that raiders attacked, and the two soldiers were forced to retreat after experiencing heavier than expected resistance._

* * *

Her mask pressed against her face comfortably, the seals pressed against her face. Stale air poured gently through the mask filters, the faint taste of earth and radiation present, despite having changed the filter. The white lens on her mask, now replaced, illuminated everything in greater detail.

She gripped her sword, spinning it a few times in her palm. The switch was turned off, leaving the polished blade dark. She stood at one end of the arena, harsh light shining from above. Her other hand held her gun loosely, the pistol loaded, safety on.

Across from her stood her opponent. Shorter than her, silver hair, arrogant smirk. A black and silver themed outfit with heavier looking boots. Tilting her head, she tried to find an obvious weapon. No sword, no gun, not even a staff. No bracers of any sort. Not even a stiff looking jacket. Perhaps the boots?

"And begin!" The shout from Goodwitch started the battle.

Jane switched the safety, the soft click echoing. Mercury, her opponent, slid one foot forward, both arms retreating behind his back. Jane shifted her stance, bringing her sword up.

Neither combatant moved, seemingly weighing each other's capabilities. She could tell immediately he was like that girl Cinder. The personality they presented was different from what she could see.

This kid, no older than the majority of team RWBY, was dangerous. He had killed before. He had seen death. She smirked beneath her mask. This school was proving to be quite interesting. She wondered idly if Ozpin knew he had mysterious students hiding in his school. Could be interesting.

Almost 2 years in the wastes gave her an almost perfect ability to observe people. She could see he was waiting for her to make a move. A feral grin leapt to her face. So be it. It was usually her to made the first move anyways.

Leveling her pistol, she fired a round.

Mercury stepped left, moving nimbly, the round sparking against the ground. The kid spun around, kicking his foot forward, aimed at Jane.

She spun to the right, seeing a shot race towards her. The storm coat flared outwards, balancing her spin. Twisting around, she fired a trio of rounds, all failing to hit. Mercury dodged two of them, while kicking a third away.

Jane had to hand it to the kid, kicking bullets away isn't an easy task. She withheld her curiosity as to how he was able to kick a bullet and not suffer a cracked foot.

He dashed forward, the newly discovered guns on his feet propelling him forward. A wild kick and he was flying, one foot ready to fire a shot at her point blank range. Using the flat of her blade she pushed his foot away, the shot flying harmlessly beside her head. A flick of her thumb caused energy to arc along the blade.

With a curse Mercury recoiled, the energy getting through his aura. With him on the retreat, Jane pressed forward. Firing another trio of shots, she simultaneously swiped with her sword, hoping to get another strike in.

Mercury, expecting this, jumped back and kicked his other leg out, firing another shot. This time, instead of the shot going straight for her, it turned into a white ball of mist and began to circle her. Several more kicks with his foot and there were a number of these white mist things flying around.

Jane idly noted that these white blurs formed a tight circle, keeping her movement somewhat limited. Firing experimentally at the white mist, she had to cover her eyes when the object exploded.

Right then, not getting hit by that.

Mercury got in close again, no longer using his guns. Instead he kicked, using his feet almost entirely to attack her. Using her sword and pistol she intercepted the attacks. Admittedly this was a confusing fight as her close quarters combat method relied upon her arms and torso, whereas Mercury seemed to be a prodigy at using only his lower body.

Stabbing forward, he dodged her strike by strafing to the left. Lining up her shot, she fired twice, the rounds sparking off of that white barrier.

Above them, the aura readers measured Mercury's dipping by about a quarter, leaving him just on the edge of the orange.

Almost snarling now, Mercury redoubled his efforts, lashing out with his food for another shot.

He wasn't sure who was more surprised, Mercury or Jane, when the shot didn't fire, instead an ugly sounding tearing of metal inside the chamber. Jane could only stare as his ankle seemed to swell slightly. Leaping backwards, she had only one thing to say as the ankle swelled even more.

"Fuck!"

The now swollen ankle exploded, white mist and fire rushing outwards. The shockwave pushed her back, sending her into the wall of white mist, causing a further detonation.

The earth seemed to fly backwards, her form rushing rapidly backwards. Her sword left her grip, flying somewhere, her gun doing the same.

She cried out when her head hit the wall, rest of her body following. Her vision swam when a sharp pain entered her abdomen, lancing straight through. A scream left her mouth, amplified by the mechanical speaker on her helmet as several thousand volts seemed to lance through her.

Despite her pain, she managed to open her eyes.

Mercury was against one wall, missing a leg from below his knee. Black scorch marks littered the area, small craters evident. Goodwitch was running towards Mercury, her riding crop brandished, a worried look on her face.

Pain and energy still lanced through her, preventing her mind from loosing consciousness. Her mind distantly wondered why she was seeing everything from higher up. Looking at her torso, her mind finally clicked.

"Oh that's where you went!" she slurred. Her vision was doubling, but she was pretty sure that her sword had her pinned to the wall about 12 feet up. Did nobody notice her?

Reaching forward to flick the switch on the handle, she screamed as her body slid forward, the handle stopping her. The motion seemed to be enough, as the sword separated from the wall, her body falling.

Screaming, her body struck the ground, muscles spasming randomly from excess electrical charge. With a roar, her hand grasped the handle, the sword having slipped outwards. She didn't have enough strength to pull the blade out. Grasping the edge, she pulled it back in, bringing the handle to within arms distance. Unaware of the students screaming, some disgorging their lunches, Jane pressed the switch on the handle.

Black spots began to form over her vision. He cursed, knowing what was going to happen.

"Haven't fucking passed out since-!" Her head struck the ground, eyes closed.

* * *

Her eyes opened.

Endless burnt desert stretched before her, blackened trees and ruins dotting the landscape. In the distance there was smoke, possibly from a battle. Nearby there were some aircraft wreckage, both from brotherhood and enclave forces.

"You are so like myself."

She spun around, reaching for a gun that wasn't there. Standing there in the desert, as if nothing had happened, was Colonel Autumn, his southern accent trailing.

"What? Where am I?" she yelled, taking a step forward.

When she moved, he shifted backwards, the distance between them not closing.

"You fought us, tooth and nail, thinking you were better. Believed us to be the embodiment of all that was evil."

"Because you were!" she screamed, pointing a finger at him. She gasped, seeing her arm. Looking at herself, she noticed instead of the armor she had grown used to, it was her vault 101 jumpsuit.

"Were we? The Enclave sought to bring order, stability to Washington. So we had to cleanse it of the mutated filth, a small price to pay." Autumn stared at her, grey eyes unblinking, hands clasped behind him. She noticed his coat was unmarked, missing the 3 inch hole her shotgun had bored into him.

"You were going to kill thousands! All because they simply existed!" Autumn tsk'd.

"And how many did you kill _Lone Wanderer?_ How many did you end, all because you had to, all because there was no choice? How many women and children did you slaughter at The Pitt, how many died on your travels in the wastes?"

She bit her tongue. She honestly wasn't sure. Before the Pitt she had easily killed over a hundred people, probably on the upper end of 200. It wasn't that she went out of her way, it was that things always spiralled out of control.

After the Pitt, after that, that _massacre,_ she no longer kept track. She didn't know how many had died, but it had forever weight on her mind, causing her to lose sleep. That had changed her, and not for the better.

"You killed us."

She spun around. A hand coming up to her mouth.

Sarah.

She was wearing her power armor, lacking her helmet. Dusty blond hair, dented grey metal. It was Sarah. Her Sarah.

Tears in her crimson eyes, Jane started to walk forward, one arm moving for Sarah.

An angry scowl overcame her face, crystal blue eyes narrowing.

"You killed us, you killed me!" Jane recoiled, the shock of those words hitting harder and deeper than any bullet ever had.

"No! I would never-"

"Never what!" retorted Sarah. "You bombed out the Citadel! You caused Rivet City to fall into the waters!"

"She's right." Jane spun around, facing Autumn, tears pooling in her eyes.

"After Liberty Prime, the system defaulted to the Pentagon. We were trying to override it when you and your brotherhood cohorts attacked our airbase."

Seeing her shock, Autumn pressed on, a grin overtaking his face.

"Face it Wanderer, you killed the Wasteland, burned it and scarred it more perfectly than the bombs ever could. I doubt even the Enclave could have done a more perfect job."

Her vision was blurring, black spots appearing at the edge of her vision.

"You killed us all!" screamed Sarah, her voice distorting. Movement felt sluggish, but still she turned, facing Sarah.

"I didn't mean to!" she yelled back, tears pouring from her eyes. She tried running towards Sarah, arms reaching out towards her. Sarah's form moved backwards, the distance never shrinking. The blackness grew, her vision tunneling.

"You killed us all!" she screamed, finger pointing at Jane, shaking from anger. The black spots overtook her vision, the sensation of falling overcoming her.

She fell, blackness swimming by her. Invisible wind tore at her, the thin jumpsuit offering no protection.

White pinpricks started to appear in the distance, rushing towards her. She crossed her arms, attempting to shield herself from the objects. They whisked by her, light streaming past. More of the white specks flashed by, gaining speed.

It felt like she was falling towards the earth, but there was nothing to hit, only a constant force of gravity pulling her down towards some non-existent point. She began to flip backwards, spinning rapidly.

Tears still poured from her eyes, but the force of her spin and the wind dried her eyes as quickly as they could form. White specks still flew past her. The sky seemed to lighten, illuminating the object she was heading for.

A black sphere, the light illuminating the sky on the other side, creating a mockery of a solar eclipse. Screaming, Jane once again covered her face, seeing the ground rush up to her.

She struck the ground.

"Gah! Fuck!" Forcing the curse out, Jane rolled onto her back, looking upwards. Doing a mental check, she was relieved that no bones were broken. Slowly getting to her feet, she looked around.

A field of wheat. Waist high, motes of light rising slowly upwards. An invisible wind rippled across, causing the field to move with it.

 _You killed them._

She spun around, hand reaching for her gun. This time there was one.

 _You killed them all._

The voice came from behind, she spun and let out a shot, only to see there was nothing.

 _How many did you kill?_

Again, the voices. Was she losing it? Was this what happened to people who had a mental break?

 _How many will you kill?_

None, if she could stand it. She didn't want to kill, never wanted to. It was always because she was forced into it.

 _You burned the earth, killed it again. The Capital Wasteland is now a distant memory._

No, Megaton still survived, surely they would live.

 _Megaton relied upon traders. But you left nothing to trade. They will wither and die like the land around them._

Jane fell to her knees, half holding the gun in front of her. Her other arm was gripped around her torso.

 _Will you burn this world too? Will you destroy it as thoroughly as DC?_

No, she wouldn't, this world didn't know of the horrors of nuclear war, they didn't have the bombs!

 _But there are so few of them. A slight nudge and they could all die._

No, they were hardier than that, they would live.

 _You'll kill them all._

* * *

 **I do not own RWBY or Fallout 3. All works belong to their respective creators.**

 **Also, while I have been getting nothing but story and author alert's and favorites, I could definitely use reviews. They help me guide the story a little. Figure out where I went wrong, what I did good. As the phrase goes, flames are welcome.**


	5. Forged in Blood and Fire

_She walked down the hall, bright lights illuminating the faded blue hallways. Massive pressure doors lined the residential area. The paint was fading, chipped and cracked in some areas, revealing the pale grey metal underneath._

 _Row after row of doors, some open, revealing the residents within. Large windows revealed the interiors, some families sitting around a radio, others playing games._

 _Her white hair was tired behind her head, a red baseball cap covering her eyes. Her vault suite was tight, just a size small. The suite dispensers were malfunctioning so getting a new one was going to take a while until they were fixed._

 _She was approaching the classroom. 15, only a year until the GOAT exam. Honestly, she didn't give it much thought. It was just a test. Nothing to fear. People might make a big deal of it but nothing held her interest._

 _She turned a corner, heading for the classroom. Her eyes widened when a fist flew towards her face. Unable to react, she tumbled backwards, a soft cry escaping her lips._

 _She was aware of laughing, a group, maybe 4 or 5 people. Blood trickled down her nose and over her cheek. Her hat had fallen from her head. One hand was on her nose, trying to stem the blood flow._

 _Using her other hand, she pushed herself up, wobbling slightly on her knees._

" _Stupid freak fell like a sack of bricks!" She cracked an eye open, free arm bracing herself against the wall._

 _4 figures stood there, familiar black jackets overtop their blue jumpsuits._

 _The Tunnel snakes. A gang that currently dominated the younger vault population, made of a few of the more brutal kids in her age group._

 _Butch Deloria was the leader, his slicked back hair constantly kept in check with a prodigious amount of oil and a switchblade comb._

 _Freddie Mack was his second in command. Significantly slighter in build, he had a more reedy form to him, compared to Butch's heavily muscled physique. A couple others were in the group, sniggering._

 _Jane wiped one arm across her face, smearing the blood across her forearm. Her eyes narrowed, looking at the group. For years she had been ridiculed, called names because of her unusual eye and hair color._

 _Everyone had either dark blond or brown hair with hazel eyes, the result of 200 years of no genetic diversity. Comparatively, he white hair and red eyes made her different. And it had been the main source of jokes, pranks, and overall bullying over her life._

 _Her eyes narrowed, glaring at them. Several times they had done this now, jumped her and beaten the snot out of her. Leaning down, she grabbed her hat, stuffing it back onto her head._

 _Stepping forward, she attempted to shoulder past the gang, only to be pushed back by Butch. The other two stepped behind her, creating a makeshift human barricade. Her escape cut off she spaced her feet, hands clenched._

" _Oh, so the little freak is going to fight us?" Butch laughed. She was a smaller girl at 15, topping out at maybe 5 foot 4. Based upon her father she might get taller, but she wasn't holding out any hopes._

" _So what now, you going to beat me up again?" she spat, saliva mixed with a small amount of blood. It struck the ground, a shining spot on the wall._

 _Butch didn't respond, instead stepping forward with his fist cocked. Jane brought her arms up to defend her face, thinking he was going to strike her face._

 _Instead, a blow to her stomach caused her to double over, a breathless gasp escaping her mouth. A second blow followed up on the back of her head. Her feet gave out, vision swimming as the floor rushed up._

 _Curling into the fetal position, she coughed, arms clutched around her stomach. She felt her stomach convulsing, trying to retain some of the food she had eaten for breakfast today._

 _Another kick, this time at her back. Arching backwards, she screamed. Unlike her stomach, a kick to the back was far different. The stomach would absorb the blow more, spreading it around the sensitive flesh. The back was a solid surface with minimal protection. It was far sharper, far more focused._

 _Another kick, this one to her shin._

 _A punch to her shoulder._

 _Something hard impacted her. Must have been Mack, he had fashioned a pair of knuckle dusters._

 _A foot stomped on her hand, breaking two fingers._

 _The beating continued, causing bruising, some broken bones on her hands, lacerations and internal bleeding. She curled up, covering her face. It was several minutes later that the beating finished, the gang leaving her to her suffering. Waiting for them to leave. She listened as their laughter faded, footsteps echoing down the hall, until at last there was nothing._

 _Slowly getting to her feet, Jane held her broken hand to her chest, blood dripping quietly onto the floor, drowned out by the ambient noise of the ventilation system and power conduits. Stumbling back where she came, she headed towards her room, class forgotten._

 _The door sliding open with a whoosh, she ignored her father, his grey white hair brushed back, clean vault lab uniform covering a faded blue jumpsuit._

" _Shouldn't you be at school?" he asked, not looking away from the desk. The terminal had a small hourglass picture spinning slowly. Numerous experiments littered the desk, test tubes and beakers filled with water and chemicals and glowing substances. Nearby sat a medical kit overflowing with surplus radaway._

" _There was a fight, I got injured." She was a sorry sight, blood matting her hair and arms. Her short height compared to her father, who managed to tower over most people even sitting down._

" _And you've come crawling back to patch yourself up have you?" he asked, tone never changing. She flinched, having heard that tone before._

" _Father-"_

" _Silence." His voice adopted a deeper tone, compared to her higher pitch._

" _This seems to be a weekly thing at best. At least you haven't come crying this time. Medical supplies are in the infirmary. I expect you to be back in class for the afternoon block. Don't disturb me."_

 _His voice never changed, his hands never stopped moving, doing whatever to the vials and beakers on the desk._

 _A shaky breath and she continued to the door on the side, entering the infirmary. There was a larger hospital in the central area of the vault, but during the off hours there was one located in the residential district located adjacent to the vault doctor. It allowed for rapid treatment during the quiet hours._

 _The door sliding shut behind her, she used her good hand to grab the medical supplies from the cabinet. Placing them on the table, she grabbed some gauze, alcohol wipes and other supplies, placing them on the table. Easing herself down, she stripped the upper part of her jumpsuit off, grabbing the heavy duty wrap, preparing to bind her ribs._

* * *

Awareness came back to her violently. Some described regaining consciousness as a slow thing, as if a warm blanket was being pulled away from them slowly. Like taking a drink of cool water when too warm.

Jane wasn't sure if that was true, but she had never experienced it.

She was aware of pain, her limbs were on fire, they felt like thousands of knives stabbed into her limbs. Molten lead in her veins. A horrendous pain tore through her gut, the fire of radiation and the coolness of metal. Her eyes felt fuzzy, she couldn't see straight.

She was aware of a scream tearing through her throat, a hoarse and dry thing. Fluid flew in tiny droplets, possibly saliva, more likely blood.

There was shouting around her, indistinct. A jab in her shoulder, warmth flooded her system. She felt her heart rate jump. Blood pumped, flying around her system. Pressure on her stomach, causing the pain to surge.

"3, 2, 1!" A ripping sound, the cold feel of steel in her stomach vanished, replaced with even more pressure, a hot feeling now.

"Put her to sleep!" Another needle, more of the hotness in her arm. The warmth didn't move much past her arm. There was a reason why, but she couldn't remember.

"Hold her!"

"Why?" That voice was younger, familiar.

"Just do it!" Hands threw themselves on her shoulder. Strong hands held her down. Was she convulsing? She hadn't noticed.

"Now!" Something plunged into her chest. Sharp, thin, cold. Warmth flooded from her chest, heat making its way into her blood stream. Her movements slowed, all the feeling and sensations slowing down. Was she dying? The last fragments of conscious thought left her, her mind drifting away.

* * *

A soft beeping echoed. Every half second. She wasn't wearing her armor. Its familiar heft wasn't present. Some light fabric was stretched over her, what felt like a sheet on top.

She cracked an eye open, immediately closing it. Blinding light filled her retina, causing her to flinch. Everything felt sluggish. Slow moving. Bracing herself, she opened both eyes, screwing the consequences.

It was bright, but more manageable. There was a ceiling, brown wood arching upwards. Tall stain glass windows. A hospital room. Much fancier than the Citadel. Much nicer than the Vault.

Looking to the left, she took in the view.

A figure sat there. Long blond hair, tight brown vest. She looked familiar.

Yang? Now why the hell would a member of her team be here? If she could she would have snorted. Team. The concept was still stupid. But Ozpin had said it. And she couldn't turn down the excellent food.

She looked down.

A bandage wrapped around her torso, visible just because of the angle. Dried blood was on a small portion, a single line of it. Some kind of stab wound? She looked around. Nobody else seemed to be present. Were they taking shifts?

Now here was a question. Where were her clothes?

"What the hell happened?" she grumbled, using her arms to prop her self up. The movement caused the blond to notice her.

Reaching up to her ears, Yang removed some weird yellow cables that were hooked into her ears. She'd have to ask about that.

"Jane!" She winced at the noise. Just a little too high pitched for her liking.

"Yeh, I'm pretty sure it's me," she replied, wincing. "What exactly happened to me?"

"Well, you were dueling Mercury, which by the way was awesome! That fight was incredible! You were kicking ass!" Jane frowned, looking at Yang. She seemed overly excited for a fight which barely lasted 5 minutes.

"And?" she asked. Yang coughed, regaining some of her composure.

"Well, there was some kind of accident. We're not sure what happened, but the ammunition Mercury kept in his leg detonated inside the magazine, blowing his leg clean off. That pushed you into the swirling cloud of doom and caused everything to explode. Fortunately, both his legs are fake, so he's ok, just some bruising."

Jane nodded, those events matching up with her memory. "And what happened with me?"

Yang quieted, not sure how to proceed. Jane watched her fidget slightly. Well," she began, drawing out the voice.

Jane only glared at her, wincing slightly when she breathed.

"The explosion threw you against a wall. It was high enough that nobody noticed. Your sword followed apparently, which, uh…" Jane motioned a hand, waiting for her to continue.

"The sword kinda speared you to the wall. The lightning generator in the sword must have kept you awake. We all kinda panicked when you fell from the ceiling, most lost their lunches when you drew the sword back in. Half the population still think you tried to kill yourself." Yang looked a little green even just recounting the experience.

Jane nodded. Made sense. Her wound was long enough, it fit. Wouldn't be the first time she had stabbed herself with that silly thing. Although, this was a first in terms of how bad it was. Looks like it might have nicked the spinal column.

"Where did my stuff go? Pretty sure I didn't fight in this paper dress," she laughed, stopping when her wound hurt. Yang didn't quite meet her eyes.

"Where's my stuff?" she repeated, voice firmer this time.

"Unfortunately it had to be cut away."

Jane turned her head, while Yang's head snapped upwards, seeing the new voice.

Headmaster Ozpin himself strode into the room, cane in hand and coffee in the other.

"The explosion did more than was originally thought. Obviously the sword was one problem, but the residual effects from the detonation had other problems. Your armor was scorched and had to be cut away. There are some residual first degree burns on your legs, but nothing that can't be fixed. Unfortunately most had to be cut away."

Jane cursed. "And my pistol?" she asked. Ozpin grimaced.

"Well, the explosion superheated the metal and impact on the wall shattered it. I am afraid the only one that made it out was your sword."

Jane flung her head back against the pillow. "And the armor?" A short period of silence.

"The helmet was fine, as well as the gloves and boots. The rest couldn't exactly be saved." Jane cursed. It was like this land was determined to strip her of everything she had carried in DC.

"Of course, like your gun, Beacon has many facilities to support our students, including the fabrication plants. They should be of use for you." Jane nodded, too pissed to answer. Instead she turned to Yang.

"Would you tell Ruby to finish my gun? Lord knows I need some good news," she grumbled. Yang nodded, bringing out her scroll, typing away. Texting. She would need to learn the mechanics behind that.

"Could I speak privately with you Ozpin?" questioned Jane. Ozpin looked around, seeing that there was only Yang in the room.

"Ms. Long, if you would kindly assist your sister with Ms. Freewrite's weapon? Perhaps see about cleaning up her sword?" he questioned. Yang only nodded. Leaving with a 'get better soon' she left through the nearest door, heading towards wherever Ruby was.

When the door closed, Ozpin turned to Jane.

"And how might I help you today?" he asked, taking a sip. Jane composed her thoughts.

"Mercury isn't what he seems. Are you aware of that?" He cocked his head, taking another sip.

"He's a killer. More than that, he probably revels in it. Murder, killing. Definitely no student."

Ozpin nodded, thinking. The silence stretched on between the two, steady beep of the heart monitor the only sound.

"I had expected something like that. After the breach, I knew things were moving into place. There's a hidden agenda somewhere. Some grand plan that I am struggling to figure out" A scowl overcame his face, as if the very act of thinking about it made his coffee taste worse.

"So what's the plan? He's at least exposed, so whatever he's up to he can't do nearly as much. What are you going to do about his pal Cinder?" Ozpin frowned.

"Cinder?" he questioned.

"Yeh, ran into her with Ruby there. She's got the same air about her. Definitely has some kind plan. I would assume they are working together in some respect?"

His eyes narrowed. Setting his coffee on a nearby table, he clenched his cane in two hands.

"I need to deal with this. Take care Ms. Freewrite, the doctor says you should be out in a day. You heal remarkably fast." Jane nodded.

"How long was I out?" she asked conversationally. Ozpin checked his scroll.

"Only a day. The sword managed to miss anything too vital, although you did lose a fair bit of blood." Nodding, Ozpin turned and left, leaving Jane to her thoughts.

* * *

4 items sat on the table.

A Shocksword, over 200 years old and still working. Belonging to a great Chinese General before his death. Gold handle and dark greenish blue blade. Quite nice.

A helmet. Slightly burnt, another optic cracked. The gas mask was functional, although she needed more filters. The helmet needed a few dents hammered out and could do with new paint. It needed fixing. And possibly stronger optics.

Her gloves. While they were saved, it was a bit of an over estimation.

The built in knuckle dusters needed repair. The carbon fiber mesh needed replacement, the fire having scorched it. Edges were frayed, metal warped. Honestly she wondered what the rest of it looked like if this was good condition.

The boots were relatively fine, only needing some metal fabrication. Although, looking at the pair of boots again, she began to pick out problems. Rivets were worn or missing, the fabric and leather was cracked, and the sole was quite worn.

"So basically the sword and mask is ok. The rest needs work. A lot of work." She rubbed her eyes.

"Fuck. And the gun was just finished. It's not fair." Turning to the rest of the fabrication room, she took stock. Pip-boy was wired up to a monitor, displaying a much larger version of the screen. Another monitor, this one with the fancy writing pens for it, had schematics of a few different things, ranging from armor to clothing to weapons. Walking over to the large monitor, her pip boy operating system displayed, she navigated to the system memory, flicking through the songs. Selecting a classic, she turned the volume up, listening to the upbeat sounds of 'Anything goes' to get her into the mood for working.

Scratching the healing injury on her chest, she grabbed a glass of water, the fluid stained yellow and mysterious particles of something floating around somewhat. Thanks to her unique ability to heal in the presence of radiation, many a time raiders had her pinned, thought wounded, only to get back up in perfect health.

Taking a swig, she grimaced at the taste, matter particulate scratching her throat. The burning sensation of radiation filled her, the wound reduced to a mild itching. Putting the glass down she turned to the fabrication machines.

"Right. How does this thing work again," she pondered, looking at the confusing interface. Give her a command prompt terminal any day of the week. Graphical user interface. Weird stuff. Actually, she might have something better.

"Liberty? You listening?" she called out. The music dimmed, and a deep, gravely voice filled the room. The monitor took on a red hue, a single red line overlaid across the center.

"Affirmative Madam President!" Jane snorted. Reprogramming an insane AI to follow her orders was tricky. She decided upon just giving her the presidential status. It worked.

"Send a text to Ruby, I require her assistance in the fabrication labs," she drawled, head tilted, gazing at the schematics.

"Affirmative! Delivering message of freedom to Subject: Ruby!" Jane nodded, happy that her insane communist hating AI could double as a secretary.

* * *

Ruby chewed her pencil. Around her sat the rest of the team, in various states. She herself was working on homework, one of the last assignments for the week. Yang and Weiss were playing a game of Risk, although it could more be compared to a literal slaughter. Blake was nose deep inside a book, reading happily under a beam of sunlight.

Ruby's scroll was in her skirt, low powered state conserving charge. She stared at the page, hoping the words would come to her, so that she might write an essay about the non-evolution of Grimm.

Her eyes lit up, an idea coming to mind. Just as she was about to strike pen to paper, an idea on how to proceed, she felt her scroll buzz, a soft beep coming from it. She briefly thought about answering it, but it probably wasn't important. Starting to write her paper out, she ignored her scroll when it beeped again.

A third time and she sighed, throwing her pen down. Blake observed her, raising an eyebrow. Weiss and Yang had taken a brief reprieve to stretch, the former taking not of Ruby's irritation.

Pulling out her scroll, she pulled the slides on either side. Seeing she had a message, she opened it. An audio file? Meh. Pulling out her earphones, she put them on, not wishing to disturb the relative silence of the library.

"MADAM PRESIDENT HAD ORDERED YOU TO REPORT TO THE FABRICATION BAYS! PLEASE PROCEED AT ONCE!"

Wincing at the noise, she involuntarily flung her earphones off her head, the volume still quite loud. The headphones hit the table, messing up the carefully arrayed game pieces.

"Watch it you dunce! I was winning!" cried her partner. Yang snorted.

"No you weren't. You were maybe 3 turns away from losing," bragged Yang, leaning back in her chair. Weiss looked at the board, trying to figure out how that was possible.

"Why did you throw your headphones?" inquired Blake, only half paying attention. Ruby grabbed the headphones off the table, stashing them in her cloak.

"Some prank message or something. Wanted me to go to the fabricators," she replied, swiftly checking the contact details.

"Huh, it's Jane." The three looked up at that. Since Jane had been discharged from the infirmary, the team had taken measures to get to know their new teammate, both at the behest of Ozpin and Ruby, they had chatted with the woman. Despite that, they still didn't know a whole lot, questions being answered with half truths and redirection.

"What does she want?" Weiss still hadn't warmed up to Jane, although it was somewhat in doubt if any of them had. Yang didn't trust Jane, but Ruby did, and Yang trusted Ruby, so there was that. Blake somewhat understood where Jane was coming from, but she couldn't help but feel on edge around the wastelander, despite whatever her conscious thoughts were.

Weiss didn't like the woman on principle, mostly because she was an antithesis to herself. Refined and cultured, vs Jane's rough and simplistic.

"Well, doesn't say. Hope she doesn't need help with her gun, just finished it last night," she mumbled. Packing up her books, a little irritated that she was being interrupted during her school work. Waving to her teammates, she headed towards the basement of Beacon, where the facilities were located.

* * *

It was a week since she started, and Jane was still working. After Ruby had helped her figure out how to use the machines, and provided help on redesigning a handgun for Dust compatability.

A week since she sat there, rebuilding her armor and her weapons, re-forging her sword to eliminate some inconsistencies 200 years of age could cause on simple steel.

Wiping her hands on an oil stained cloth, she leaned against a table, admiring her work. Her once clean grey shirt was covered in oil streaks and small tears. Her eyes were tired but shining. Nearby there was a pot and a cup full of this 'coffee' that had garnered her interest so much. It had existed in the Old World, and in the history texts, and in fond memories in the Vault, but she herself had never had it. It was a wonderful substance, and she feared it's mere presence would make sure she never had thoughts of returning to DC.

Casting away the thoughts of her old home, she instead focused on her armor and weapons.

The under suite was composed of black pants and a tight fitting jacket. The legs and torso were fitted with lightweight armor plates made of Dreadnought battle plate, whatever that was. The torso area was designed with a few smaller plates on her abdomen, meant to protect her fleshy stomach. A belt held multiple pouches, containing first aid supplies, ammunition, field maintenance kit and other such things.

Overtop the iconic storm coat, infused with dust at the behest of, oddly enough Weiss, made sure to protect her against Dust based attacks, as well as enhancing her already formidable capabilities. The same armor plates were on the back, shoulders and forearms. The fabric portions of her armor were black, while the armor plates were dark grey trimmed in silver. The gloves were the same material, but with heavy knuckle dusters sewn into the material, as well as a heavier armor plate on the back of the hand.

Her boots were more or less the same idea. Hard rubber sole provided traction, while the knee length material made sure to support her ankle. The same armor plates were located on the front of her legs as well as the outsides of the boots, while bright metal silver caps toe caps made sure to attract attention.

Her helmet was the only part that hadn't changed much. The metal shell was remade from the same metal as her armor, while the mask had its optics once again replaced. On the table beside it all lay a few items. The first was a sack that would hang from one shoulder and lay across her waist, making sure she had extra ammunition and supplies.

Her sword was different. The blade was the same, but made with a different metal, this one heavier than usual. The handle was made from the old blade, it's mass giving enough room so that she could add a handguard. The same assembly was built in allowing the blade to be charged on command.

Next was her sidearm. The pistol had changed dramatically.

While the 10mm used a rather small round with a fair bit of powder to propel it to lethal velocities, her examinations into Dust had revealed some interesting things.

A single grain of dust powder was equivalent to about 7 or 8 grains of gunpowder. But, only a couple of grains were needed to both propel a bullet. A side affect of this Dust though was bullets using a special blend would take on the characteristics of the propellant. Ergo, red dust makes explosive bullets.

So she had been forced to delve deep into her archives, figuring out what to do. Eventually she had come to a choice. The round would have the same physical dimensions as a 20mm round, but a much smaller casing. The round itself was designed with more emphasis on the effects of the Dust than armor penetration.

The gun itself ended up looking large, brick like and bulky, but with the added bonus of firing the equivilent of a frag grenade at subsonic velocities. It was about twice as large as her old pistol, but it would more than suffice.

And finally, she grinned at the final item on the table. The biggest change, and something that she would have to get used to. If her shotgun could be likened to an autocannon, firing modified rounds much larger and harder than expected, then this was the equivalent between a .22 handgun and an anti material rifle.

The gun was a modified MG34, the designed scavenged from the history of war museum in the wasteland. The removable barrel had been replaced with a single unit, the barrel length actually ending up slightly shorter because of it. The belt feeder had been changed, using a longer bullet to get better range and penetration. The belts themselves were kept in her shoulder sack. It might chew through ammo, but damn did it work well. Besides, she implemented a burst fire mode allowing for less of a spray and pray system.

And of course a few shorter knifes were created out of scrap metal, things she could stuff down the side of her boots, in her sleeves, on her belt. The largest one was about a foot and a half long, sliding along the length of her leg into the boot.

Looking at the now clear monitor, she glanced at the red themed one. "Liberty, what's the time?" she asked, her voice tired.

"The time is currently 2335 hundred hours ma'am!" replied the somewhat homicidal AI. Jane hummed at that. Grabbing the duffel bag next to her, she stuffed the gear into it, leaving her gun and sword out because of size restrictions. Slinging that over her back, she grabbed her pip boy, shouldered the sword and gun and proceeded to head towards the lockers, where she was required to keep her gear.

Arriving at hers, she tapped the six digit code, the door opening. Throwing the duffel bag inside, she carefully placed the gun and sword inside on the provided mounts. A stray thought occurred to her, remembering an instance in the wasteland.

Reaching into the duffel bag, she grabbed the pistol, making sure it had ammo. Satisfied, she stashed it in her waistband, her shirt riding overtop concealing it from view.

* * *

It was late, obviously, the shattered moon was broken, hanging in the sky, a metaphor for the world below. Striding down the hall, Jane headed towards her room, the white moonlight intersecting her path every 4 feet.

She turned the corner, a single beam lancing down the hallway, revealing a presence. Ruby was leaning against her door, hood pulled up. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, arms holding them close to her chest.

Jane paused, hand reflexively reaching for her gun. Seeing it was a friend, she relaxed, striding forward. An irritated look overcame her face. It was late and all she wanted to do was go to bed.

"Might I ask why you're in front of my room?" she questioned, standing before the young girl. Ruby gasped, head snapping up. Jane could immediately see her eyes were bloodshot, evidence of her crying. Her face softened, voice changing tone.

Ruby seemed to be searching for words, her voice cracking slightly. A tense minute passed, where she only lowered her head again, hiding her face. Jane scratched her head, wondering how to proceed.

"You want to come in?" she asked, motioning for the door. Ruby only nodded. Sighing, Jane swiped her scroll against the lock, the door clicking open. The smaller girl wordlessly followed Jane in, the door closing softly. Gesturing towards a seat, Jane sat on the bed, watching the young leader.

"So what's bugging you?" she asked, fiddling with her pip boy. She was content to let the girl take her time, but if this went too much longer, she might have to provoke her.

"Why?" The question was soft, quite. So quiet that if she hadn't been expecting it Jane might have missed it. At her questioning look, Ruby continued.

"Why did you kill those people on the train?" Jane nodded, considering her response.

"You know why. Ozpin told you as much. It came down to us or them. They had no objection to killing us, so why should we afford the same mercy upon our enemies?" Ruby was silent at that, thinking how to respond.

"What you're losing sleep over is how easy it was, how I seemingly went ahead, with little provocation, and proceeded to kill the entire train." Her eyes widened, Jane having nailed the question that had been burning within her.

"Truth be told I don't love the act of killing." At her surprised look, she continued. "Don't get me wrong; I enjoy the thrill of battle, the adrenaline, the uncertainty of life or death. But I never start a battle with the intention of mass slaughter. I try to stay on the good side, doing the right thing." Leaning back onto the bed, she put her arm behind her head, looking at the ceiling.

"It get's easy after a while. Your first kill is always hard, you lose sleep over it, wonder how you could have prevented it. Where I came from, I didn't really have a choice. If I didn't kill, if I didn't make it easy, then I would die. So I got good at it."

The two of them sat in silence, Ruby processing what Jane had said. Jane herself went back to fiddling with her pip boy, doing seemingly nothing on it.

"Where did you come from?"

Silence. The only sound was the hum of the fans in the hallway, moving air through the building.

"I come from a different world," she replied simply. "Something that exists parallel to this one, a different reality, where the events in that world evolved differently than this one."

Ruby gaped, the previous events somewhat forgotten.

"What do you mean? How is that even possible?" she exclaimed, almost leaping to her feet.

"Well, the science is a little beyond me, but the basic principle is once you get small enough the classical rules of physics don't exactly apply. From there it's far easier to impress the will of man upon the world," she answered.

"A portal was made, designed to be a safe refuge in case of an inevitable war. The idea being the best bunker is a bunker that doesn't exist. Sadly it was never used, the war happening before its test."

Ruby nodded, connecting the dots. "That's when you found me?" she asked, the enthusiasm from before toned down.

Jane nodded. "Shortly after exiting the portal, I happened upon you and your predicament. The rest, they say, is history." She finished her sentence, mind remembering other things.

"What happened to your world?" she asked, probing further.

Jane didn't respond. Not sure how. Ruby was still innocent, her youth and naivety granting her a level of childishness that she was hesitant to expunge from the girl. There would be time for her to grow, to mature. Maybe in the future she could explain the details, but now, now she wouldn't need to know the details of her world, how a difference in ideology burned it in fire, scorching almost all life from the surface. How the radiation changed what was left, mutating it into vile, horrid beasts that could go toe to toe with a Grimm and probably come out on top. That man still continued to fight in the corpse of that world, still trying to stake a claim, become a ruler of a small patch of infertile land, unidentifiable from the patch next to it. No, best to keep her innocent a while longer.

"There was a war," she started. "It got bad, real bad. There wasn't a lot that could be done. There was too much hate, too much animosity on either side to reach some kind of conclusion." Ruby nodded, silent.

The two sat there, thinking into the night. It wasn't until some time later that Ruby left, her mind cleared. As she left she turned to Jane, mouth open.

"We're heading into Vale tomorrow, would you like to come?" she asked, voice hopeful. Her only response was Jane flinging a hand up, thumb pointing towards the ceiling. Smiling, Ruby left the room. The room was silent, with the exception of some mechanical clicks and hums from a wrist mounted computer. A few seconds later, music began to play.

' _I don't want to set the world on fire!'_

* * *

 **I do not own RWBY or Fallout 3. All works belong to their respective creators.**

 **So it's a day or two late, but I was trying to get this right. Next chapter things will get more interesting.**

 **Also, a response to the review by 'Just some guy', an anonymous review.**

 **I am, as you can guess, somewhat new to this fanfiction writing. I'm mostly doing it as a pass time in the evenings. So forgive me if I happen to use a few cliché's in my writing. I happen to appreciate your review, as it let's me know what people might be thinking. That said, the comment at the end, about how the flashback scenes make you want to vomit, is completely uncalled for. It is one thing to provide criticism about a work, pointing out where a writer has gone wrong. It is quite another to insinuate that my literary work makes you physically ill. I'll let the review stand, as I believe censoring something petty like this proves nothing, but I would appreciate that if you decide to review again, that you grow a pair and fucking use an account.**


	6. Let the Games Begin

_Harsh wind blew across the landscape. Brown sand flew about, chunks of it breaking apart upon contact with anything larger than itself. It tore at her, cutting her exposed skin, the radioactive particles of dirt and sand making her skin tingle. She tightened her scarf around her neck, goggles covering her eyes. Her regulator duster helped block the worst of it, but it was unavoidable. She readjusted her pack, hunting rifle hanging from her shoulder._

 _She couldn't see more than 4 feet in front of her, sunlight trying it's best to stream through the storm. She forced forward through the storm, checking the display on her pip boy every now and then just to reference her position._

 _She patted down her waist, feeling the knife on her hip. Something had been following her since the storm began. It was outside her field of view, about 10 feet back. Whatever it was, it had to be big._

 _Yao Guai possibly. She had run into them once or twice. You just had to be careful. But they weren't known for stalking prey. Might be a few molerats. One wouldn't do it, but it could be a group. That would be incredibly weird though, as they were an underground creature. Following her above ground in this weather didn't fit with their profile._

 _She briefly considered it to be a Deathclaw, but that vanished from her mind almost immediately. The few stories she had heard about those monsters had painted them as isolationists. Beings that didn't leave an established area. A few questions and she had the more popular locations to find the beasts, and had taken measures to steer clear._

 _Regardless, she drew her rifle, readying herself. Spinning around rapidly, she fired twice, ramming the bolt as fast as possible. Two shot's cracked from the barrel, small puffs of flame ejecting from the end. The two single shells fell to the earth, wind blowing them around in the earth._

 _A gut wrenching roar erupted from the storm. It was deep, primal roar, the wind almost giving pause. She pulled the bolt back, another round in the chamber. She took a step back. Her mind raced, thinking of what to do. It wasn't a Yao Guai, it's roar was different._

 _An object leapt from the swirling storm. It stood almost 8 feet tall, but hunched. 2-foot-long claws mounted on arms as long as it was tall. Thick demonic horns sprouted from an angry, twisted visage. Thick skin and scales covered the form, showcasing powerful muscles._

 _A god damned Deathclaw. Well fuck._

 _She fired another round. It struck the beast, a spark flashing on it's face. The thick armor on it's face deflecting a 5.56mm round._

 _She threw herself to the side as claws swept through the space where she stood. Pulling the bolt back, she loaded another round. Coming about, she fired another round, this time into the softer stomach of the beast. This time it penetrated, but clearly didn't do much damage beyond making the beast angry._

 _It spun around, claws once again going for a swipe. This time they did connect, but fortunately the palm of the beast did, rather than the much larger claws. Despite that, she screamed, the force tearing the air from her lungs. It propelled her several yards away. The beast disappeared in the storm again._

" _Ahh fuck," she groaned, slowly rolling over. Just her luck, encountering one of the most dangerous beasts in the wastes during a sand storm._

 _Slowly getting to her feet, she pulled out her knife, rifle having been lost. Holding it in a reverse grip she tried to breath calmly. Shallow breaths, or else she might vomit. There was a roar. She jumped forward, screaming when three claws carved into her back._

 _It was worse than a bullet. It felt like fire was tearing into her back. She could feel her toes, so she wasn't crippled. Adrenaline surged through her system, blocking the pain somewhat. She got to her feet, teeth gritted in pain._

 _She heard the beast roar again. Instead of dodging, she jumped_ into _the attack. The beast seemed to pause, surprised that it's prey would willingly dive towards it. She stabbed with the knife, using the puncture wound from her bullet as an entry. It sunk to the hilt. With a scream, she pushed up, slicing upwards to the deathclaw's throat._

 _Steaming hot entrails poured out, conveniently onto her. The death screams of the beast echoed, mixing with her scream, echoed across the wastes. The thing shuddered, an inordinate amount of blood flowing out of the 3-foot rip in the Deathclaw's stomach._

 _She held the knife there, coated in blood and ichor. Her scream tapered off, ending in deep breaths. She realized that the creature was dead, once it's weight settled. She gasped when it fell on her, it's weight pinning her to the earth._

" _Fuck!" She tried to push the beast off. Her hands slipped on the gory mess, unable to find purchase. Muscles straining, she let out another curse, attempting instead to slide out from underneath rather than just move the beast off. It took a few tries, but she managed, the insides of the Deathclaw providing a macabre lubrication._

 _The storm still raged, wind blowing, sand tearing into every bit of exposed flesh. Already a small dune was forming around the beast, seeking to cover up what she had done. It was a cruel irony, the greatest struggles in the wastes were laid low to the wastes herself._

 _Unable to find her hunting rifle, she merely sheathed her knife, and proceeded to stumble forwards, armed with only a knife and a few grenades. The sand storm swallowed her up quickly, covering her foot prints and the corpse behind her._

* * *

The sun shone down upon the streets. Strange holographic images hung in the air, either advertising products for sale or being used for some civil purposes. Jane couldn't help but keep her head on a swivel. All she had known so far was basically Beacon and the ruins of Mount Glenn. Now that she could get a good look at it, a look at a fully functioning, non-destroyed city, she couldn't help but gape, eyes roving everywhere. People walked without fear on the streets, motor vehicles drove at sedate paces, children laughed.

It sickened her.

These people had never known constant danger. They never had to eke out a life in an inhospitable wasteland, not knowing if the next day was going to be the last. Hell, most didn't even fight the Grimm, they just sat inside these walls, acting like there was not a care in the world. A few fought, Hunters and Huntresses, pledging their lives to protecting the 4 kingdoms, but even then, she didn't like them.

At the end of the day, they could return to a city if they hadn't died, rest, recuperate, and rearm. She couldn't fathom how many times she had camped out in the ruins of an old building, shoving the desiccated corpse of some long since dead person away so that she might have a safe place to rest. How many times had she forgone sleep, instead drugging herself to stay awake until it was safe to sleep?

She smiled ruefully, remembering her old friends chastising her for her strategy.

The rest of the team had separated, wanting to do their own things. Yang and Ruby off to buy rations apparently. Blake was at a book store or something, while Weiss was off doing something.

Jane breathed a sigh, contemplating the 'teammates' she kept company with. To be honest, the entire student dynamic was grating on her nerves. The classes presented no information beyond what existed inside the internet or this 'inter-scroll' network. She should know, she had already had Liberty Prime trawl the databases, assembling reports on relevant information.

"I could probably teach the kids shit," she mumbled, hands stuffed in her pockets.

Shortly after arriving in the city, the team had dropped her off at a clothing store before vanishing. Almost an hour later and she had better casual clothing than her school uniform.

Black pants, soft knee high leather boots in a darker brown. Grey collared shirt covered by a beige wool storm coat reaching her ankles. The entire ensemble was functional, comfortable, and inexpensive. The coat was fantastic because it provided a place to store a few knives in her sleeves and her pistol under her arm. The only thing that wasn't new was her grey scarf, wrapped around her neck. The edges had been repaired, the previously burnt and dirtied state fixed.

Now she was browsing around the town, looking for something. During the data sweeps, Liberty had brought up one interesting facet of information. Apparently that strange white shield most people had wasn't some form of technology or tech. It was in fact a strange phenomena called Aura.

A physical manifestation of a person's soul. It protected people from harm, and gave them capabilities far beyond baseline human. For example, running extremely fast, creating magic symbols in the sky, literally bursting into flames when angry.

This Aura allowed for all these things and more. The extra capabilities, things such as the special abilities most hunters exhibited, were called Semblance. Apparently while there was a registry, it was uncommon for the same type of semblance to crop up repeatedly. This meant most people had distinct capabilities that, in her world, would have been considered the thing of comic books.

So now she was trying to find out where exactly she could find somebody to unlock this 'Aura,' since she may or may not have it. There was no record of people in her world having this kind of power, the ability to shield themselves against harm.

Glancing at her scroll, she smiled softly. She had recently copied the database from her pip boy over to the device, and was loving it. It provided a wonderful way of keeping all the same information, but without the massive bulk on her left arm. Instead there was a pair of leather gloves on her hands, both to hide her pale white flesh on one arm, and also to just protect her hands.

Glancing at the information on the scroll, she looked at the building. It was industrial in design. Grey brick, no windows, a single sign out front proclaiming it to be the 'Three Bears'. Apparently it was a nightclub run by the leader of a gang. Larger in size, they hadn't been connected with anything directly, but they were under suspicion.

Sliding the device closed, she strode elegantly forwards, using both hands to force open the doors. Despite the fact it was only 1 in the afternoon, there were a few people milling about inside. A quick glance told her they were probably cleaners, security, the like.

One of the figures walked forward. Black suite, black shirt, red stripe tie. It was complimented with aviator sunglasses and a fedora. She cocked an eyebrow, amused at the archetypal gangster look.

"We're not open right now. You'll have to leave," he stated. She noticed he was tense. There wasn't an obvious weapon on him, but it might be under his jacket.

"I need to speak to," She paused, drawing a blank. Her brow furrowed, trying to remember the name Liberty had given her. Holding up a finger, ignoring the goon's sputtering, she reached into her pocket, pulling out her scroll. A quick scan and she knew.

"Junior. I need to speak to some guy named Junior," she finalized, a pleased look overcoming her face. The look didn't leave her face when a gun was pointed towards her head.

"Leave," he commanded, any sort of joviality gone. If Jane was worried, she didn't show it. Instead her pleased look morphed into a feral grin. Slapping the scroll shut, she unbuttoned her coat, putting the device inside. Instead of withdrawing, her hand moved higher, grasping the handle of her pistol.

The goon retracted his gun, moving to slide the action back.

Jane whipped out her arm, pistol in her hand. She leveled it with the man's face, the grin not leaving her face. She slowly moved her free hand up, grabbing his sunglasses. The man didn't move, now visible eyes flicking between her gun and her hand. Maintaining eye contact, she slipped the glasses over her eyes. This would do.

"Let's try this again," she repeated, enjoying the fear across his face. A barrel wider than a man's eye usually did that. She didn't have to waste time readying it, the safety was off and a round in the chamber.

Her eyes glanced left and right, seeing more of the goons show up. They all had red machetes, and they held them rather loosely.

"Go to hell!" he spat. Jane sighed. Always the hard way.

* * *

Inside the office, Junior looked up from his terminal. There were gunshots. He glanced at the time.

"It's not even 2!" he moaned. Reaching over, he grabbed his weapon, a baseball bat that turned into a missile launcher. Heading out the door, he adjusted his red tie. Pressing the button, it turned into it's long range option. He readied it, heading for the main floor. He idly noticed the screaming had stopped, as well as the gunshots. Turning the corner, he stared.

His men were dead. Some blown apart by something, others cut in half by a sword. Of the 12 he had out there earlier, there was nobody left. Anger welled up inside him, hands clenching on his weapon. He scanned the area, searching for the perpetrator that could have done this.

"So you're in command."

He moved to spin around, but a hard kick to his knee forced him down. Another to his shoulder caused him to drop his weapon, it clanking uselessly to the ground. He stopped when a sharp object was pressed to his neck. He could feel the serrated edges of the blade tugging on his skin.

"I need help unlocking an Aura. I'm told you might know somebody?" Junior didn't see the person, but he knew it was female. With the blade at his neck and now, from what he could tell, a rather large bore gun on his spine, he didn't dare turn around.

"The only person I was aware of that could do that is currently in Prison." The person didn't respond, just dug the gun into his back, forcing him slightly onto the blade.

"Roman Torchwick!" he yelled, voice cracking slightly. The pressure lessened. "The military has him stashed up on one of their ships! I don't know which one!"

The figure was silent. "What's the requirements for unlocking an Aura?" He frowned, trying to remember school lessons from his childhood. He gasped as the pressure increased, the sword cutting his neck slightly.

"They need to be experienced! Control over their own Aura! Technically any high level Hunter could do it!" He felt like coughing, but the knife was pressed firmly to his neck.

"Much obliged." The weapons were removed. Before he could spin around, something heavy impacted his head. He hit the ground, stunned. His vision started to fade, the icy claws of unconsciousness already overtaking him. The last thing he saw was a pair of brown leather boots and a beige coat.

* * *

Jane walked down the street, hands in her coat pockets. She didn't pay attention to too much, content with her thoughts. It was a novel experience, walking down a street, not needing to worry about getting shot, bitten, or killed in some horrific manner.

Getting the information had been easy. Sure killing the minions wasn't preferable, but it worked. And Junior hadn't seen her face, so there was that. Her pistol was slightly lighter, having expelled a few rounds. There was another clip on her though, so not all was lost.

Apparently she needed an experienced hunter or huntress to unlock an Aura. Roman wasn't good, since he was laid up in prison with a screwed up knee. Experienced eliminated the entirety of the student body. And from what she could tell, there weren't any local shops that advertised 'unlocking.'

She paused mid step, a thought coming to her. "Ozpin could probably help," she mumbled. Pulling open her scroll, she typed out a quick command to Liberty to organize something of a meeting between the two. Happy that her homicidal Democratic AI was on the job, she continued forth.

Nothing of note caught her attention, the rows of stores and shops all blending into each other. There was a small part of her that hated it here. Everything was cheery, bright, sunshine and lollipops. None of these people had known true hardships. Not like her.

Then again, there was nobody quite like her.

She continued down the street, but had to stop and lower her newly acquired glasses, stunned by what she saw.

Robots weren't uncommon in the Wasteland. They existed, some gone mad with time and decay, other's maintained expertly. The Mr. Handy was the most common, given its durability. Protectrons were up there as well, but both suffered from issues. The Mr. Handy was very agile, but three arms made it clunky, and the rocket motor that kept it afloat was inefficient. The Protectrons were more humanoid, but the arms were almost entirely useless.

Before her stood 10 robots, in two lines of five. Humanoid, they could be mistaken at a distance for people in armor. Five fingers, dexterous, they moved with lifelike precision. The only thing she could compare them to was an Android back in the wasteland, but these seemed to be on another level altogether.

It almost made her mouth water, imagining just what she could do with something like this. Perhaps a body for Liberty?

Lost in her thoughts, eyes following the patrolling robots, she remembered a simpler time. A time when she charged headlong into battle, the 80-foot-tall mechanized warrior that was Liberty Prime, shooting lasers from his eye and throwing nukes like it was going out of style. It made her heart quicken, hands grow clammy. Nothing but good times.

This though, he could be a little bit more portable. 80-foot-tall war machine was fine and all, but something a little more versatile was always nice. But a protectron body or anything similar was just too… degrading.

Maybe she could buy one?

"Excuse me!" she exclaimed, striding quickly towards what appeared to be two human handlers. The two soldiers turned, their body armor effectively hiding them from view.

"May we help you ma'am?" Soldier A seemed at ease, Soldier B keeping an eye out. Inwardly she nodded, happy that these two seemed competently trained.

"Yes, where did you get such exquisite robots?" she queried, admiring the machines close up.

"They are the new model Altesian Knights. We're phasing the old series out. Too many issues." Jane nodded, mind already whirring with ideas.

"Where might I acquire one?" she asked eagerly. Soldier A frowned, his head tilting slightly in confusion.

"These are military property ma'am, they aren't for sale," he stated, confusion lacing his tone.

Jane frowned. Surely there must be a way to acquire one of these glorious constructs.

* * *

It was as if the entire day had taken a grey overtone. The previously sunny weather seemed to tone down, the wind dropped a few degrees. The entire world seemed to take on her mood.

"Stupid rent-a-cops wouldn't give me a robot," she grumbled, heading back towards the cheep vertibird remakes known as a bullhead.

She didn't notice getting back onto the aircraft. She didn't notice the rest of her team boarding after her, loaded slightly with purchases. She didn't notice the flight back, nor did she really notice departing, waving dejectedly to her team. She walked aimlessly, not quite caring for anything. If she couldn't have a robot, what point was there to life?

Staring up, she stared at Beacon Tower. Well, perhaps something could be salvaged. Entering the building, she idly noticed it was starting to rain. It suited her mood. Ascending the stairs, she idly noted the weather was taking a turn for the worse. Reaching the top, she paused, seeing not a door, but an elevator. She paused, wondering how much money had been wasted making the only entrance to the office at the top use two different means.

Entering the elevator, she mashed the button, stomach dropping when it rose. She almost cursed at the cheep elevator music. Even the Wasteland, with the world burnt and scarred, cheep elevator music still remained.

With a ding, the doors opened, revealing the office. Ozpin stood before the large panoramic window, coffee in hand, drinking steadily. The lights were dimmed, allowing the lights of the city in the distance to shine through. She idly noticed there was a stack of paper on one side of the desk.

"Ah, Ms. Freewrite, to what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked conversationally. Stashing her sunglasses in her coat, Jane walked forward.

"So I learned about this thing you call Aura. Did a little looking around and you might be able to help me out," she commented. Ozpin turned around, merely sipping his coffee.

"You need your Aura unlocked then?" She nodded, pleased she wouldn't have to elaborate on the situation.

"Are you even sure you posses the capability to generate an Aura? If your world does not have an element that interacts with Aura, then you might not be able to create one." Jane nodded.

"Yeh, I had thought about that. But I figured what's the worst that could happen? My own independent research basically stated nobody has ever been permanently hurt unlocking an Aura." Ozpin nodded at that, sipping his coffee.

Seriously, he drank a fair bit of that stuff.

"I suppose we could see what happens." Walking forward, he put his coffee on the table, transferring his cane to his off hand. Holding out his hand, Jane grasped it, looking him in the eye.

Taking a breath, Ozpin started, chanting something that sounded completely made up.

" _For it is in passing that we achieve immortality. Through this, we become a paragon of virtue and glory to rise above all. Infinite in distance and unbound by death, I release your soul, and by my shoulder, protect thee."_

She gasped. A sharpness had entered her. Centered around her heart it was hot, fiery, _burning._ It began to spread, flowing along her nerves, along her veins and muscles. It was all encompassing, it made her feel alive. There was a roaring in her ears, the sounds of fire and death. She could distantly make out Ozpin yelling. When did he get so tall?

She grinned, the pain going up her neck. An icy feeling was spreading from her chest. If the first one had been the hottest thing she had felt, then this was the opposite. Slowly, the feeling replaced the heat, creeping along her limbs. The burning sensation, as if she was being cooked was lancing across her skull. She was distantly aware of Ozpin yelling.

She couldn't approximate the feeling at all, the duality of the fire and ice. She knew the feeling of ice. Her first winter in the wastes. The cold, the wind, the ash, it froze a person to their core. She had almost frozen that first winter. This is what it felt like. But she couldn't place the fire. Where had she felt that before.

Once again the blackness was coming for her. The fire was returning. It was comforting, familiar. She tried to place it.

Oh yes, now she remembered.

The burning heat of an Atom Bomb.

* * *

 **I do not own RWBY or Fallout 3. All works belong to their respective creators.**

 **And holy shit did anyone watch the latest episode? My story ideas finally have merit!**


	7. The Eve of Something Greater

**Hello readers, so it came to my attention that I should clear up a few things about our protagonist Jane. First, her loadout.**

 **Basically think the ranger combat armor from Fallout New Vegas, but black. Gab armor plates from some heavy combat armor from F4 and put them on the shoulders and arms, while underneath is medium combat armor on the chest and legs. Her weapons are basically an MG34 with a shorter barrel. That's kept on a sling underneath her coat. Her pistol, well, go look up a Warhammer 40K bolt pistol. Not quite to that extreme, but up there. I figured this should be cleared up since there was a bit of confusion.**

* * *

 _Fire danced in the air. The air was heavy, ash and dust and heat making it hard to breath. She had long since torn her headgear off, basking in the glow. Her weapons lay beside her, cast aside when she fell to her knees, arms spread, maniac grin almost pulling her face apart._

 _Before her lay The Pitt. Before it was a thriving slaver paradise, filled with mutated human beings. Slaves forced to work the forges, where they stripped the once great American city to it's core, melting it into weapons for war. Kept in check by a large, well established slaver gang, lead by an ex Brotherhood soldier._

 _She couldn't condone the acts the man had committed, the lives he had ruined, the thousands he had killed._

 _So she had lied, acted, and fought her way into his good graces. She met the monster who called itself a man, saw the atrocities he committed for a higher power. She had laughed at the time. He hadn't seen anything. Merely the effects of all that Jet upon his system._

 _So, during the nights, she worked. She would erase this place from the earth. It was a blight. A cancer, a festering wound upon the world. It needed to be cleansed. Purified in fire. Scorched from the earth._

 _So she built a bomb._

 _It wasn't hard. A few parts here, a few wires here. It was easy. Beneath the city, where the mutated monsters resided, she created her bomb. They didn't disturb her, parting like a sea of flesh where she walked. They might be mutated monstrosities, but deep down, deep in their psyche they were still somewhat human, and they knew she would kill them._

 _To attack her was foolish. Better to prey upon the slaves._

 _It took her a week. A week of working, hiding her intentions, creating something glorious. After a week, she marveled at her creation._

 _Almost 70 feet below the earth, where the heat was almost intolerable from the forges around her, lay twenty drums. All old, yellow paint flaking, decayed. A few of them had the telltale warning sign for Nuclear Radiation. They were wired together with scraps, explosives strapped to the top. Several were grouped around a large, central device. When she had found it, she had almost cheered, her plans coming to fruition._

 _A block of raw Plutonium._

 _Arrayed around in barrels and canisters, rigged with grenades and pipe bombs. She walked along her work, trailing a hand. Her Geiger counter was shrieking, but she didn't care. Radiation didn't bother her since Point Lookout._

 _Almost skipping, she left, heading for the entrance to this hell hole. Bypassing guards, slaves and other less than desirable elements of humanity, she crossed the bridge, the guards not shooting her. She technically had the favour of the ruler of the Pitt, having proved herself in combat._

 _Standing only at the end of the bridge, she smiled, pulling up her pip boy. Flicking through a few dials, she found the setting she wanted. Pressing it, she cranked another dial._

 _Sound started to issue from her wrist computer. Soft violins, a cello, uplifting music. A rendition of the American Anthem done without vocals. She had fond memories of this in the Vault. Hers was the greatest Nation upon this earth. It's wasteland her inheritance. She would make this world great again. But to do that, she had to cure it first._

 _Casting her weapons to her side, she spun, dancing with the music, psychotic glee overtaking her. She would fix this world, make it great, bring it the glory it deserved, make her ancestors proud._

 _The music continued, and she started to breath heavily. A heat had overtaken her, familiar and different. An indescribable joy had overtaken her, a feeling that finally,_ finally _she was doing something right, moving towards the right path._

 _Her skin tingled, the movement of cloth pulling and tugging at her causing the heat to grow and her excitement to rise. The music intermingled with her thoughts, a rush of endorphins coursing through her brain. Every moment and motion was causing her to build up to something wonderful, her mind starting to unravel at the seams._

 _When the music reached a crescendo, she stopped, panting. With a shaky hand, almost not believing that she was going to do this, she readied her hand._

" _Glory to America!" she cried, slamming her finger down on a switch._

 _In the distance, maybe 3 miles away, a light flashed into existence._

 _She fell to her knees, screaming in a primal release, the heat flooding her system as her eyes took in what she was seeing, her brain overloaded._

 _The light grew, exploding into existence. The air visibly distorted in an outwards dome. Smoke and ash reached into the heavens, forming a cloud that folded into itself from underneath. Secondary explosions erupted, the forges themselves going up into flames, molten metal moving quicker than a bullet. The heat boiled the metal skeleton of Pittsburgh, the few remaining buildings melting slightly before being shattered into rock sized fragments. Fire raced through the air. Even at her distance, the fire licked her form slightly, curling over it, as if there was a force protecting her._

 _Her head tilted back, her body shuddering. Arms held out at her sides, her fists clenched, basking in the glow of it all. She couldn't help but cry tears, having not felt this good in her entire life._

 _She didn't know how long she kneeled there, taking it all in, but she cracked an eye open to see the aftermath._

 _Where once stood a rotting city devoted towards slavery and vice, now there was nothing but a crater, smoke rising. The molten metal had coated the crater, causing it to shine from a distance. Fires raged on the outskirts, burning what was left. She nodded, seeing nothing was alive._

 _Slowly getting to her feet, she retrieved her weapons, stowing them on her person. Her grin still on her face, she turned and left._

 _The rebuilding of America had started._

* * *

She woke, air flooding into her lungs. Her diaphragm was spasming, causing her to cough on the air. Raising one hand, she was somewhat aware that she felt stronger. Rolling onto her side, she coughed a few times. Opening her eyes, she scanned the room.

Floor to ceiling windows, slowly rotating gears, a large desk. Perhaps she hadn't moved from Ozpin's office?

"How are you feeling?" Jane looked to see the man kneeling next to her, a concerned look upon his face.

"Peachy!" she coughed. "Felt like a bitch though. Was it supposed to hurt that much?" She slowly got to her feet, putting one foot under her.

"Unlocking one's Aura is a much different system than learning to use it yourself. It can be unpredictable. No two cases are alike." Helping her to her feet, Ozpin took a step back, letting the woman get her bearings.

"Of course it is," she grumbled. "Does this mean I can at least shrug off bullets now?" She grinned, imagining how useful that would have been.

"No. A universal truth is that when forcefully unlocked, an Aura is very weak. You need to train it to make it grow. I dare say you wouldn't be able to take a well placed punch right now," he remarked.

Jane twisted her neck, feeling the bones pop. Doing the reverse, she rolled her shoulders, doing a mental run through of her body.

"Training, got it. Any other suggestions?" she asked, bouncing slightly on her feet.

"Not particularly. As far as a semblance goes, those can't be forced. You will have to discover that yourself." Taking a sip of his coffee he wasn't surprised when she nodded.

"Nothing's ever that easy," she replied. Sighing, brought out her scroll, checking something. Liberty had sent her an update on some side projects to help her in this world. Nothing she couldn't ignore for a few hours.

"So what are you doing about Mercury?" she asked, leaning against the desk. She still felt a little weak from unlocking her apparent Aura.

"Nothing for the moment. I am having his scroll monitored and the teachers are watching him and his team. Beyond that there isn't a whole lot we can do." Jane nodded, leaning back slightly.

"He's not what he seems Ozpin, him and the rest of his team. They don't look like the other students." At his questioning look, Jane elaborated.

"It's not something you can really explain. Back in the Wasteland, when I first stumbled from the Vault, I noticed people were different. Harder, unkind. Their eyes looked focused. Those kids look the same. They've killed before."

Ozpin merely sipped his coffee.

"Regardless," he stated, pacing. "There isn't much we can do. It's merely conjecture at this point. I've got them watched, and we'll have to see. I would break too many laws by going further." Jane nodded.

Pushing herself up from the desk, she headed for the elevator.

"Thanks Ozpin. Perhaps next time there's a training accident I won't stab myself." Chortling, she let the doors close, Ozpin's bewildered face staring after her. Perhaps he didn't understand how she was joking about her almost death.

"Perhaps," she mumbled to herself, the elevator descending. "You can do nothing but laugh."

* * *

Walking down the hallway, Jane had to marvel at what this Aura felt like.

Idly trying to stab her hand with a spare knife, she grinned, seeing the pale yellow field snap into focus, about a quarter inch from her hand. It prevented the knife from stabbing, but she could still feel the force of the blade, muted somewhat.

A few deft flicks and still no damage. Although, if she pushed hard, she could feel something in her gut. An iciness, spreading slowly. This was probably her Aura running out. A good physical indicator.

With a series of flips the knife was stored in her sleeve. At the end of the hall was her room, the last door on the right hand side. To her left was the rest of her team's. Strangely they were silent, no noise coming from inside the room.

"Maybe they're at class still?" she wondered aloud. Stuffing her hands in her coat pockets, she continued. She stopped mid step, seeing something out of the ordinary.

Her door was ajar slightly.

Her hand went for the knife in her sleeve, the other slowly retrieving her gun. Treading softly she inched towards the room.

Using the edge of the knife, she pushed it open slowly. The curtains were closed, as always. Furniture was the same, nothing seemed disturbed. Glancing it over, she picked out the finer details. A corner of a rug was flipped up. There was a hastily fixed impression on the corner of her bed, a small fold presenting itself near the bottom. One drawer on her desk looked ajar, as if it had been searched.

Stepping over to the bathroom, she gently edged the door open. Inside there was a simple toilet, sink, and shower. The curtains were open, no room for anyone to hide. Slowly checking her cupboard, she saw that the basic stuff was there. Her eyes narrowed, noticing one of the rolls had been moved, the dust imprint showing.

Turning around, she paused. On the sink was a scrap of red something. Grabbing it with her knife hand, she rolled it between her fingers. It was soft, almost like velum. Organic, with several shades of red. Cautiously sniffing it, she had to agree with the smell, it was quite nice.

Putting it down, she re-entered her room. Walking over to the closet, she reached for the handle.

 _THUMP_

She spun around, weapon aimed, finger on the trigger. Her chair had fallen backwards, striking the floor.

There was somebody in the room.

Sliding her gun into it's holster, she spun, now free hand plunging through the closet door. The cheep white wood and plastic build shattered under her strength, offering little resistance. Feeling a warm body and soft cloth, she clenched her fist, rearing back. The body was pulled through the door, the rest of the construction giving up.

Yellow and brown assaulted her vision, violet eyes wide in shock as the figure was hauled bodily into the center of the room. Her knife flashed, ready to stab down, crippling whomever decided to hide in her closet.

Right before she struck down, blade aimed for the femoral artery, she stopped.

"Yang, what the fuck are you doing in my closet?" Her eyes widened. "Ruby, are you in my bathroom?"

Her eyes flicked over to the bathroom, seeing Ruby drop down from the ceiling. Blowing a bit of her hair from her face, Jane stood up, ignoring Yang who had resorted to holding her hands up in a surrender position.

"And why, praytell, were you two in my room? Better yet, how did you get in?" she queried, stowing her knife. Retrieving her gun, she moved the chair upright before sitting down. Opening the drawer, she grabbed a small nondescript grey cloth bag, pulling it out. Inside lay weapon maintenance tools.

"Well, we were coming to drop off some stuff we bought for you! But the door was locked, so Yang picked the lock! Once we were in she started looking around and I tried to stop her but she wouldn't listen and then you came and we hid!" She gasped, finishing the sentence with the last of her air. Jane merely raised an eyebrow.

Looking over to Yang, she saw the girl was not directly looking at her, choosing to admire the floor.

"You bought some stuff?" Jane questioned, eyes sliding back over to Ruby. The young girl smiled, pointing at the closet. Drifting her attention over, she paused, comprehending the inside of the closet, conveniently on display now that the door wasn't there.

Hanging from a rod along the top were various shirts and sweaters, maybe 12 or so. The colors were muted, ranging from a few in light and dark brown to black and grey. On the floor were several pairs of footwear, ranging from combat boots to what looked like a running shoe. Visible as well were pants, in the same variety of colors.

Slowly, almost reverently, Jane walked over, memories coming to her head unbidden.

" _Here."_

 _Jane spun around, looking to see who spoke to her. A smile overtook her face, seeing it was Sarah, out of her power armor and in some off duty clothes. The well worn pants and heavy jacket suited her, blond hair tied in a messy bun making sure her sapphire eyes were on display. In her hands was a packaged, wrapped in faded paper of several sorts and string._

" _What is it?" she asked, gently taking the object. She regretted running into Sarah before she could clean herself up, her clothing smelling of blood and earth._

" _It's a present! Some records from a while ago guessed you were born today, so I figured you would want a gift!" replied the blonde, a genuine smile overtaking her face._

 _An uncomfortable lump formed in her throat. Jane found it hard to breath, let alone talk. While she was very good friends with Sarah, she hadn't told her everything about her time in the Vault. About how her father was distant at best, how she never had a birthday, never a gift. The only exception was the Vault sponsored 10_ _th_ _birthday, for the regular right of passage of getting a pip boy._

 _Gently pulling the wrapping off, Jane gasped, seeing the contents._

 _It was a coat. Almost comically long, it almost reached her ankles. Tough fabric, somewhat worn and dirtied, with a few patches here and there. Deep pockets lined the inside, while the sleeves were nice and thick. A high collar rose up, most likely to protect her neck._

" _Try it on!" exclaimed the blond, almost jumping up and down. At her insistence, Jane, with somewhat shakey hands, unfolded the garment, looping an arm through one sleeve._

" _While we were on patrol we rested in this old clothing store. I was sweeping the upstairs for any ghouls and I found that coat. It was older, hanging from a mannequin with a few bullet holes, but I figured you would like it. It's a bit better than that ratty tunnel snakes jacket, right?" Jane was only half aware of Sarah's rambling. Instead she was marveling at it's fit._

 _It was a little long for her tastes, although she could get used to it. The patches were haphazard, and could use a little work, but they would suffice. What she was marveling at was that Sarah had gone out of her way to figure out when her birthday was, and get a gift of sorts._

 _She was still rambling about something, but Jane didn't care. Stepping forward, she grabbed the blond, wrapping her up in a bone crushing hug. That silenced Sarah, who only squeaked._

" _Thank you," she murmured, face pressed into her friend's shoulder._

Forcing the memory down, Jane turned to the duo, who were looking at her.

A million things came to mind. She could yell, scream, threaten them. She could thank them for the gifts, she could do any number of things right now.

It was a situation she wasn't sure how to respond to. This kindness was mostly unfamiliar to her. So instead, she stuck to her guns.

"You," Jane directed, pointing at Yang. "You broke my door. Go book a practice ring." Yang nodded, an eager grin coming to mind. Heading out of the roomYang veered towards the combat building.

Turning to Ruby, Jane looked at her.

"Thank you," she spoke, voice heavy. Ruby looked confused at her admission.

"I didn't have the greatest of childhoods," she started.

 _Why am I telling her this?_

"Gift giving wasn't practiced, celebrations didn't happen. It was either rationed or you stole. Giving wasn't a familiar concept."

 _Most had it ok. It was just me that was that bad._

"I don't normally get gifts." She laughed, the sound empty and devoid of joy. "I could count on one hand the number of gifts I've received for whatever reason. Even where I came from, where there was at least one point of the year you could expect something, I never got anything."

 _Christmas in the wasteland was a brotherhood affair, and that was just extra food and downtime._

"This means a lot," she finished. Feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable, she pulled out her scroll, fiddling with it. She almost dropped it when Ruby rushed up and hugged her.

"You're not there anymore, you're here," the young team leader affirmed, her voice hard with conviction, muffled slightly by her coat.

"You might be weird. You might be more abrasive than usual. Half my team doesn't exactly like you, but it doesn't matter. You're not in the Wasteland, you're here in Vale."

An unfamiliar tightness filled her throat. Unable and unwilling to speak, Jane merely patted Ruby's head in thanks.

* * *

Standing in the ring in full combat gear, Jane looked at Yang. Her outfit hadn't changed, instead donning those yellow bracers with shotguns built in. Her attitude was evident, a boxer's stance exaggerating her cocky demeanor.

Conversely Jane stood with her armor on, helmet sealed, sword in one hand and pistol in another. One foot back, ready to react, but not giving anything away. In the sidelines sat the rest of the team. Ruby was cheering for Jane, while Weiss was glaring at her. Blake seemed noncommittal about the entire thing, instead reading a book.

Whatever it was it must have been interesting. She couldn't take her eyes off of it.

"You ready there tall dark and wimpy?" heckled Yang, bouncing from foot to foot, crossing an arm over and stretching it. Jane merely nodded. Above them the board was active, displaying their Aura level.

 _She's been training her Aura longer, so it'll require more to get her into the red. I might be able to take a few punches before I'm out. The barrel on her bracers is over the pinky finger. Maybe I can get her punches to hit but the buckshot to miss?_

Ruby stood up from the bench, dramatically raising one arm.

"Begin!" she cried, slashing said appendage downwards.

Yang flung her fists behind her, twin blasts of red firing behind her, propelling the figure forwards. Jane dashed forward, leveling her gun. Seeing Yang's eyes widen before grinning, she fell to her knees, sliding beneath the airborne blond.

Firing once, the explosive dust round left the chamber. Travelling at subsonic speeds was something Jane hadn't taken into account, the result being the shot went between Yang's legs, striking the safety barrier harmlessly.

Kicking her feet up she twisted, just in time to miss another punch, shotgun blast echoing. Completing the spin, Jane slashed her sword, hitting the back of Yan's knee. Rather than collapsing like she wanted Yang used the force to propel her into a backwards spin, fists ready to land another blow directly on top of Jane.

Eyes wide beneath her mask, Jane shoved herself to the side, missing the majority of the buckshot round, a few pellets striking her foot.

On the board, her Aura dipped noticeably. Yang's was just as low, but that spoke to the damage her blade should have caused. Two or three pellets and her Aura was just as bad.

 _I've fought without it up until now, just don't get hit!_

Aiming her pistol, she made sure to lead the target before firing twice, the twin cracks echoing.

The first shot didn't connect, instead spiraling harmlessly into the floor. The second however struck center mass, the explosive shot causing Yang to fly backwards in a somewhat uncontrolled spin.

Her Aura dipped into the yellow, showing just above 50 percent. Apparently her gun had more punch than she thought.

Already moving, she watched Yang correct her flight, landing on her feet. Preparing to dodge another flying blond, she was unprepared when instead she started firing her bracers at a distance, small red rockets aimed straight at her.

Cursing, Jane dodged the slow shots. Subsonic munitions were predictable, and that was an advantage that almost nobody had on her. She could probably slap a round out of the air if she was careful.

"You wanna play the distance game? I'm game!" shouted Jane. Slapping the gun into her holster, Jane reached below her coat, revealing her masterpiece.

It hung from a shoulder strap assembly, supported just in front of the grip, providing accuracy. The unique position made sure she could fire it one handed, while the other hand could be occupied.

Shrouded barrel, wood stock and grip, hard iron sights, an impressive belt feed going into her bag. The modified MG34 was a beast. Modified for it's true 12000 rounds per minute speed using the magic that was Dust, Jane grinned wildly at Yang's face.

 _*Click*_

 _BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRT!_

In an instant almost 400 rounds flew downrange, smaller but no less capable explosive tips striking the ground, wall, barrier and everything else, micro explosions tearing everything up. The force of the gun firing forced her back somewhat, forcing her to dig her heels in. The shockwave caused dirt and dust and debris to bounce and vibrate in a cone facing outwards from the barrel.

Yang did an admirable job of dodging, using her shotgun fists to propel her straight upwards out of the cone of death. Jane merely tracked upwards, the rounds spilling out of the barrel with the force of a fire hose.

With the original model this couldn't be done, the barrel needing to be changed after about 150 to 200 rounds for cooling. A Dust infused barrel length kept cooling issues at bay.

Yang, seeing she couldn't dodge now that there was no momentum to her flight, instead fired both fists, sending the small red rockets at Jane.

Unable to dodge due to her holding the gun up and dealing with the recoil, she could only close her eyes as the small rockets hit home. At the same time the bullet hose struck Yang, enveloping her form in small explosions.

Both simultaneous detonations obscured the fighters. Ruby stood up, a gasp escaping from her throat. Weiss who had been silent up until now was slack jawed at the rate of fire from the gun.

Blake was still reading her book.

When the dust cleared, both breathed a sigh of relief.

Yang was ok, lying on her back while breathing from exertion. Her aura was below the dueling threshold, meaning she was out. Nothing less, she was grinning. Jane was somewhat indecipherable, given her helmet. Considering she had propped herself up into a sitting position, and what sounded like laughter from her mask, she was probably ok. Her Aura meter also registered her in the red, below the threshold.

A tie.

* * *

Jane stood on the edge of the cliff, overlooking the Emerald Forest. In the distance she could see a massive floating object. Liberty had informed her this was the Vytal Stadium, where the big tournament would occur.

The concept had amused her. After a large war maybe 80 years ago the four individual kingdoms got together and spent a crap load of cash making the stadium. It hovered, it had variable environments for combat, high tech transmission capabilities.

She chuckled, thinking how Rothchild would react seeing the structure. It was being escorted by a couple of those airships, cruising slowly towards Vale. Apparently it would occupy just off shore by the docks for safety reasons.

That was another thing she had to figure out. Although, there wasn't much to it. The teams were typically 4 person groups fighting it out in combat to see who was the best. Ozpin saddling her as a proverbial 5th wheel might make the team arrangement complicated.

Sighing, she spun away from the cliff, heading back to the school. The opening round of the tournament would occur tomorrow afternoon. Team RWBY was scheduled as the 4th match of the day, so she would need to be prepared at the very least.

The rest of the team had managed to work together well enough, so she didn't seek to disturb that mechanic. Worst case she could just act as a spare. Her lower aura level didn't exactly mean she could take more than a hit or two during combat. That in turn was something of a handicap.

"Well Liberty, what do you think?" she asked, her voice directed no where in particular. From her coat pocket the scroll vibrated.

"Deep analysis suggests a terrorist attack is imminent. Likely attack will occur at the tournament itself. More data will be needed." The deep toned robot voice was muffled somewhat by the coat, causing her to chuckle.

"I suppose that's one take on the matter. Think we should get involved?" Her jovial tone faded at the end.

"Historical data suggests partaking in any future conflict will result in large collateral damage." Jane frowned.

"Shut up," she spat, eyes narrowing. Stupid AI.

* * *

 **I do not own RWBY or Fallout 3. All works belong to their respective creators.**

 **A tad bit short, but we'll pick it up next chapter.**


	8. First Move

Why did none of you comment on that last opening? She made a nuke while the mutants below didn't even touch her! I'm building up to something here. Speculation on the plot is appreciated.

* * *

 _It was dark, the sun having set several hours ago. The wasteland was buried in darkness, the constant dust cloud obscured any moonlight or starlight, shrouding the entire world in darkness. Here and there lights drove the darkness back, fires from camps, the glow of the Citadel being the most obvious._

 _In the ruins of the city moved a group of people, yellow flashlight beams carving into the darkness, illuminating the area around them. Five of them, dressed in black combat armor, a small white emblem on their chest._

 _Assault rifles kept at the ready, flashlights glowing, they moved slowly and carefully, moving with a military precision. They moved in a loose wedge formation, the one at the front clearly being some kind of leader. The two beside him kept the left and right protected, while the last two covered the rear. There were no words, no signals. They moved with a purpose, and it showed._

 _Given a contract by an unknown benefactor, this squad was tasked with eliminating a problem in the wasteland. Talon company, a rather well known mercenary organization for hire, wasn't a stranger to these kind of contracts. Their target however, was quite a bit different._

 _The Lone Wanderer._

 _More than a few people would want her dead, her habit of walking into a place and eliminating the local criminal groups made sure of that. Psychopathic tendencies and her supernatural ability to not die resulted her in having quite the bounty._

 _The leader raised his fist, signalling the group to stop. Two of them took a knee, maintaining guard position. One hopped up on a large chunk of rubble, attaining an elevated position for lookout. The leader and one other pulled out a sheet of paper, flashlight aimed at it._

" _There's been a sighting of her here, in the Westerland building. We'll get Richards to scope it out. If she's there we'll strike at dawn." The colonel, an older man with a scraggly beard and stringy hair, pointed towards a crossed off location on the map. The figure across from him, a rather thick jawed male in his late twenties nodded._

" _Why didn't we strike a few weeks ago? Wasn't that when the job was taken?" he asked, packing the map up. The colonel responded, his gravely voice quiet._

" _Yes, but she apparently traveled to a place called Point Lookout with that river barge. Impossible to get to without the boat. Rumor has it when she got back she killed the owners and sunk the boat on the dock." The younger man didn't respond, already bringing up his gun. Checking the 3 other men, he paused, a note of fear entering his voice._

" _Where's Richards?" At once the group snapped their rifles up, looking. Richards, whom was perched upon the rubble, wasn't there. A silent hand motion and the group spread out, circling the rubble. Reaching the other side, the colonel paused, seeing the building across the street._

" _There's a light inside that building. Small, but it might be Richards. Proceed slowly," whispered the colonel, taking point. The 3 remaining mercs moved towards the building, one of the many that didn't have doors, it's form long since obscured from the rest of the buildings around it. A nameless structure that didn't have a name beyond the map in their pockets._

 _Entering the building, the group steeled themselves. A cold chill had overcome them, as if they had stepped into the territory of a Deathclaw. Lingering sweat chilled on their necks, hands tightened on the guns. They were not welcome here. And yet, at the end of the hallway, there was a light. Now it was more obvious it was a flashlight of sorts._

 _Waving his fist forward, the colonel directed his second up towards the room ahead. It was the 7_ _th_ _room from the entrance, the rest shrouded in darkness. The flashlights on their guns helped illuminate the hallway, but the omnipresent darkness was everywhere else._

 _The merc slowly moved up, scanning every room he walked by. They must have been offices, since the scan wasn't too long, each room taking maybe a few seconds. Behind him another merc moved up, staying 7 feet behind. Finally the first merc reached the illuminated room. Pressing his back against the wall next to it he seemed to take a breath, preparing himself._

 _Jumping to the left, the colonel saw the merc sweep the room, looking down. Turning back, the merc had a confused expression on his face._

" _It's his gun, but no Richards!" he elaborated._

 _A black clad arm flew from the room, grasping the merc by the neck. With tremendous force it hauled him back into the room, the unexpected force causing him to drop his gun. From a distance it looked like the force pulling him in managed to overcome the force of gravity, as his feet left the ground._

 _The rest of the squad, now down to three people, shouted, moving up quickly. Each covered each other's back, making sure they couldn't get snuck up on. Rapidly entering the room, they scanned every inch of it._

 _Neither Richards nor the other merc were present, instead the two weapons lying on the ground. Scanning the area yielded no results, the small room having no other exit available. The colonel's mind was buzzing, trying to figure out what was happening._

" _Alright! Come out with your hands up Wanderer and we won't pump you full of lead!" he shouted, stealth long forgotten. Heading back into the hall he continued to sweep his gun, the two other's following him. Checking the next room, he gagged, stumbling backwards._

 _Richards was hanging from the ceiling, upside down. His armor had been stripped and his neck cut, last traces of blood flowing out of his body. Somehow in the intervening seconds the assaillent had managed to not only hang but strip Richards in the previous room, all without them hearing. It chilled him to the core._

" _Jesus fuck," mumbled another merc, one hand over his mouth. Trying not to look, the colonel grabbed a knife. Passing it to the guy beside him he merely pointed towards Richards._

" _Cut him down," he forced, trying not to gag again. Wordlessly the man took the knife, walking into the room._

 _BAM!_

 _A shotgun blast rang out from inside the room, deafening him. The young man's head exploded, buckshot tearing through his skull like wet cardboard. Like a sack of bricks he hit the ground, his neck ending in a stump._

 _The remaining two leveled their guns, pulling the triggers. Round after round fired into the room, leaving nothing unscathed. Richards was almost bisected by the rounds themselves, neither remaining mercs willing to potentially miss the figure stalking them._

 _The gun next to him stopped, probably for a reload. The colonel kept firing, not letting his trigger go until the magazine was dry. Quickly slamming another into the weapon, he cocked the mechanism back, chambering a round. A stray thought occurred to him. They were both using the same gun, so why did his run out earlier?_

 _Head snapping to his right, he pushed himself away, screaming._

 _The last remaining merc in his squad had a 2-foot knife buried in his skull, entering from below the chin and angled straight upwards into the brain._

" _Fuck this!" he screamed, sprinting for the exit. Running like a madman, he loosely pointed his gun behind him, firing indiscriminately. He could see it almost within his grasp, just a few feet away, when something impacted his ankle, causing him to stumble to the floor._

 _Converting his fall into a roll, the colonel managed to spin around, leveling his rifle at whatever might be chasing him._

 _There was nothing. No demonic entity, no Deathclaw, not even a rad roach. He considered continuing his escape when a_ force _impacted his chest, throwing him several feet back, landing outside on the rubble._

" _Gah shit, what the fuck was that!" he moaned, feeling several ribs that were probably cracked. Looking towards the building, he froze._

 _A figure swathed in black, with a large gun hidden beneath a storm coat. A sword strapped to the other side, a relic from days long past. Glowing white optics which seared into his soul._

 _The Lone Wanderer_

 _Slowly she stalked forward, a languid pace dictating to the extent upon which he was well and truly fucked. The reason he had taken a 5-man squad was so that superior numbers would win. Sadly, she had killed all of them. Men he had worked with; men he had formed partnerships with. And now they were dead._

 _His gun wasn't on him, it having been ejected several feet before him. He felt a warm stain spread from his groin when she stepped on his gun, the weapon somehow shattering beneath her feet. Components that weren't even attached shattered, the gun almost dissolving into the cracked pavement._

 _She pulled a knife from her belt, a simple combat knife with a serrated edge. Reaching him she kneeled down, as if to stab him up close. Fist closing around a rock, he brought it up, smashing the chunk of rubble against her helmeted head._

 _She stiffened, the rubble splintering against the metal of her helmet. Glancing at his still raised arm, she flicked her knife in the direction._

 _Instantly the feeling in his finger tips vanished. Confused, he could only watch with mounting horror as small red lines appeared around his knuckles. She reached over and tapped his palm, causing it to shift slightly._

 _His fingers fell from his hand, severed so cleanly the wound didn't bleed at first. He screamed, staring at his hand, now four finger short._

" _Don't kill me! It was just a job! I wanna live!" She tilted her head at his statement, tears falling from his eyes. He cradled one hand close, as if trying to protect the stumps._

 _Instead of responding, she reached up to her helmet, loosening the straps binding it to her head. He watched, unsure of what was happening. Was she going to take of her helmet? To what end?_

" _Just kill me now you bitch! Don't drag it out!" he shouted, spittle flying. She just continued, unding another strap. With a swift tug it fell off, revealing her face._

 _Whatever fear he felt before was gone. Seeing his squad killed, butchered in front of him was nothing compared to the woman's visage._

 _Pale white skin, crimson eyes, silver hair. It was something from a book, a face that didn't look natural. In a world where the standard was tan skin and black hair, she stood out like a sore thumb. Her eyes, pools of crimson, looked dead, as if she wasn't there, stared at him, almost evaluating him, judging his worth._

 _Slashing her knife, she slit his neck, cutting the jugular artery in a single motion. He attempted to reach up and put pressure on the wound, but she had other ideas. Grabbing both hands, she instead placed them over his chest, one atop another. A downward strike and she had pierced his hands, pinning them to his chest bone. The knife was almost an inch deep, ruling out any possibility of him removing it himself._

 _Lacking his voice, bleeding out and with his hands now immobilized, he could only watch as she reached down, pressing her hand to his neck. Pressing deeply, she soaked it in the blood, making sure it was saturated. Bringing it up, he watched, his vision fading, as she breathed in the scent of his life blood, before smearing it across her face._

" _Rejoice, for you will help America rebuild," she stated. His vision was fading, but he didn't miss the smile she gave him. Were it any other situation, he would probably be trying to smooth talk her into a night at his place. The presence of blood streaking her face and dead eyes still looking_ through _him caused whatever part of him that lived to cry out in terror. A wet gurgled bubbled from his throat, accompanied by pink froth from his maw._

 _He could feel his life blood seeping away unhindered, his throat cut open like a steak. Looking at her, he felt his heart stop. He pupils widened, feet kicking uselessly as if to get him away from her and the_ thing _that had appeared behind her._

 _It was tall, so much more imposing compared to him. Swathed in darkness, long arms and a terrifying appearance. His vision was fading, so it's form was smudged, but whatever it was, a deep, primal aspect of him cried out at the figure. This was no trick of the light, no terror striking at his mind at the moment of his death. No, this was something unnatural, something that shouldn't exist._

 _He tried to scream._

 _Jane ignored him, staring into the distance, a soft smile on her face. The figure below her spasmed a couple of times, trying to force air into his lungs but failing. A final, pathetic kick of his leg and he fell still, the light in his eyes dying._

 _Reveling in the high, Jane merely straddled the now dead man, basking in the thrill. A patch of overcast broke, letting the moon shine upon the earth, right where she was located. It shone light upon the dead colonel, lying with his hands crossed over his chest, gleaming silver knife buried in his hands. It displayed Jane, basking in the after effects of a hunt, having made Talon Company's job so much harder._

 _And it illuminated the figure behind her, standing over 7 feet tall, a nightmarish entity that gently put its hand on Jane's shoulder, as if urging her onwards._

 _Feeling an icy chill on her shoulder, frost creeping down her arm and up her neck, Jane grabbed her helmet, gently sliding it onto her head. Checking the straps, she got to her feet, stepping over the now dead colonel. Swiftly wrenching her knife from his chest, she cleaned the blade on his sleeve, before stowing it in it's sheath._

 _Leveling her shotgun, she proceeded down the street, looking for her next victim. Behind her, the entity followed, it's form dissolving into black flakes, taken away by the wind._

* * *

The airship gently curved through the air, rising higher and higher into the sky. A blend between a river boat and a more modern craft, it was used as a passenger system specifically for the Vytal festival. It could accommodate almost 30 passengers comfortably, 40 if they didn't mind bunching shoulders. The interior was simple, with panoramic windows and bench seating providing the passengers comforts. The trip wasn't that long, maybe a half hour at most, so there were few complaints.

Jane sat on one of the seats, half reading her scroll and half looking out the window at the looming Stadium, it's form only growing more and more massive. Seeing it from this angle she was simultaneously impressed and disgusted.

It was a statement, a symbol screaming of wealth and luxury. The large teal crystal formation below helped create an other worldly glow underneath, while the white walled building on top reminded her of the ancient Roman Coliseum from her old text books.

Nearby sat the rest of team RWBY, all chatting with one another. Ruby herself seemed interested with the various weapons that the other competitors might carry. Yang was focused on the competitors themselves, wondering how they would all match up. Blake and Weiss were talking about something; they were too quiet so eavesdropping wasn't possible.

Going back to her scroll, she viewed some news articles about the festival, hoping to learn a bit more. Apparently security this year was pretty tight, recent actions by the White Fang having provoked the Atlas military to increase its presence here for safety reasons.

Sliding the small yet wondrous device shut, she slipped it into her coat pocket, leaning back into the uncomfortable seat, feeling the motion of the craft. It reminded her of simpler times, when she rode in vertibirds, raining death and destruction from above upon the Enclave. A soft smile came to her face, remembering those times.

The airship jerked before coming to a stop. Her eyes snapped open, taking everything in.

"Shit, I fell asleep?" she grunted, rubbing an eye beneath her glasses. She was always a sucker for falling asleep in a moving object. Vertibirds were popular, but the odd caravan that let her rest on a Brahmin had done the trick.

Seeing people move for the exit, she walked over, joining her team. Ruby was quiet, her face thoughtful. Given the impending match the team had she wasn't surprised; Ruby was probably trying to figure out strategies and contingencies on how to combat the other teams.

Jane wouldn't be fighting, the proverbial fifth wheel making any team matchup impossible. So she'd sit it out, acting as a spare should any of the 4 be put out of commission. It wasn't glamorous, but it was more her style. If she tried to fight, her low Aura would be more of a liability than anything.

Yang seemed exuberant, almost hopping from foot to foot. Jane frowned, her mind conjuring an image of past days, when she helped train Knights, helped break that hot headedness from them.

"Yang, breath," she toned, putting a hand on the blonde's shoulder. She stilled, lilac eyes looking at Jane. She sighed at the confused look on the brawler's face.

"Calm down. Don't lose yourself in your eagerness to fight. I've seen too many accidents happen because somebody got cocky."

The younger girl nodded, a slight bit of uncertainty crossing her face.

"But how can you not get excited?" she asked, energy returning. "This is the Vytal festival! It's the biggest tournament in the world!" Jane clicked her tongue, eyes narrowing.

"Excitement is one thing, but emotions can get people killed. Breath. Understand the flow of battle. Don't let your emotions rule you or you will learn the hard way," she growled.

Yang merely rolled her shoulder, escaping Jane's hand. A scowl present on her face, she stormed forward, away from the group. Jane merely scrunched her brow in annoyance.

Feeling eyes on her, Jane turned, seeing Weiss staring at her.

Weiss was a bit of a conundrum. Jane immediately didn't like her because she fit all the pre-requisites for a snobby, holier than thou type of person. A person who believed themselves superior because of money or fame. The last group she had run into like that was all the way back in Tenpenny tower. Snobby assholes weren't so superior when she charged through that place with her hunting rifle, cutting them down like wheat before a farmer.

"Yes?" she growled, looking at the white haired heiress.

"Why are you helping Yang?" she asked, eyes alight in determination.

There was the other half of the equation. Despite filling all the criteria, Weiss was also something of a selfless individual. The rest of the team got along with her, and she actually tried to distance herself from her upbringing, forming relationships with her team and not abusing her family name for whatever purpose. The exact opposite of the residents of Tenpenny tower.

"Because," she started, releasing a breath. "Yang is a hot head, who enjoys the thrill of battle. She get's so hopped up on adrenaline she looses focus on a fight. The only reason she hasn't suffered for it is because of a frankly astonishing amount of luck." Conversation finished, Jane stepped forward, intent on getting a seat to watch the battle.

Weiss stared after Jane, her own thoughts on the same topic. She knew Yang was confident, too confident. She had tried to bring the topic up several times, but Ruby would only respond with her belief in Yang, childish belief that nothing could hurt her. Talking to Yang yielded less than impressive results.

Her level of respect for Jane rose, seeing the woman actually care somewhat for the rest of her team. Whether it was because of actual concern or not didn't matter, the fact that she made the effort was enough.

* * *

Seeing the stadium from inside reinforced her opinion of the establishment. An ungodly waste of money and resources for a mere 1-week contest of skill. They could have instead constructed 4 similar land based grounds in each kingdom, saved the money and made upkeep so much easier.

Sitting in the reserved seating, Jane observed the match. Team RWBY was battling it out, impressively if she had to admit. The 4 seemed capable in combat, covering each other's backs. Ruby taking up sniper support and dishing out damage cleanly. Idly Jane noticed an enemy combatant sneaking up on her.

"Idiots," she cursed. Either you firmly entrench a sniper on your side for a height advantage or you provide them a secondary. Blake was fighting somebody on some kind of hover board that doubled as a pair of pistols. The combat was a little fast paced, incorporating a lot of flips and twirls. Too much energy was being wasted in the acrobatics of the combat.

Weiss seemed to be the most interesting, her glyphs providing a distinct combat advantage. From what she had learned in the past couple of weeks, it enabled her to utilize her Dust and Aura to achieve several effects, from small scale teleportation all the way to manipulation of gravity on a local scale.

Yang was having the time of her life, duking it out in a fist fight with another close combat specialist. This person was using her Aura to augment her strength, while some kind of tensile string allowed for increased mobility.

"And there's Ruby, about to get a smack down," she mumbled, watching the staff wielder sneak up on Ruby. Almost counting down the seconds, Jane had a small grin on her face. A little bit of evidence that the team was still inexperienced.

Her grin faltered when Weiss used her teleport to kick the guy sneaking up on Ruby through her gravity glyph. Maybe she didn't give them enough credit. In her defence, Jane had worked alone for the length of her experience in the Wasteland, and it was an inherently different environment. Comparing these students, children basically, to her own standard wasn't quite fair. Besides, there were several advantages they had over herself when it came to this Aura stuff.

Her eyes flicked towards the railing, seeing a small amount of frost develop. Frowning, she continued to watch the battle. Yang was attempting to take out her opponent with minimal success. Weiss had trapped two of them in a crazy ice ball, while hover board girl, Reese was her name, had been ejected from the arena by Blake. It was now a 4 on 3 match.

"I hadn't seen you for a while, wondered where you went," she spoke offhanded, to nobody in particular.

The frost thickened slightly. A cold patch at developed next to her. She reclined deeper into the seat, it's presence almost familiar. Ever since coming to Remnant, she had wondered where the entity was, it's almost comforting chill not present. She had banished it from her mind, considering herself rid of the thing that followed her. Apparently it was taking its time.

Now that it was here she smiled softly. Having it back would greatly increase her combat abilities. A little supernatural power on her side often leveled a playing field.

Glancing towards the fight, she nodded, seeing team RWBY win. The remaining combatants were ejected from the arena rather explosively, slamming into the barrier. That counted as an automatic fail, forcing the disqualification of the opponents.

"Well, a win is a win," she voiced, standing up. Weird as the entire thing may be, she should at least congratulate her team on the victory. It would do to tell them of how they could improve, given that things would only get harder. As she walked forward, figuring out how they could operate better, she grinned when the cold spot shifted, following her.

* * *

"You sure this is safe?"

A nod.

 _Sniff_

"Smells fishy."

"Was that a stab at my food choice?"

Jane looked from the shop keeper to Blake, whom was eating a comically large bowl of raw fish.

"No. Although that is somewhat sickening," she replied, hands gesturing vaguely towards her bowl. Blake pouted, but quickly forgot Jane in favor of bigger and better things.

Namely a bowl of fish.

Jane herself was looking at Weiss's bowl of noodles, mountainous as it was. She couldn't place it, but despite it looking fresh, and based upon the fervour that Yang and Ruby ate with, tasting fresh, something seemed off about the noodles. Looking towards the shop keeper she held up two fingers. The man nodded, zipping back into the backroom of the booth. A moment later he popped out with two glass bottles.

Next to them, Pyrrha was swiping her card on a register, paying for the collective meals of everybody. At her questioning glance, Jane shook her head, pulling out a few lien notes to pay for herself.

"If you can't buy your own beer, then there's really no point," she explained, pulling the metal cap off of her bottle, oblivious to the shop keeper holding out a metal bottle opener. Taking a long drought of the beverage, she smiled.

Crisp, cool, and slightly apple flavoured. Damn near American is what it was.

The rest of team JNPR was eating, enjoying the large bowls of noodles. Mark her words, those noodles weren't safe.

"So you're up next then?" she asked conversationally. She hadn't actually met the team before beyond the odd hello in the hallways. Besides rumors and hearsay, she didn't really know much about them.

Of course, Liberty hacking into the school administration gave her a report on each of them.

Jaune Arc, leader. Despite having lower than average combat capabilities, no long range option on his weapon, he was a fearless leader. A mind for strategy that could be considered omniscient, he functioned much better directing his team than actually participating in anything more than a support roll. Large reserves of Aura made him the designated Tank.

Pyrrha Nikos, his second in command. A three time winner of some local tournament in Mistral, she was exceedingly strong, being much more suited towards close range combat, but sporting a rifle in her spear that provided long range when needed. Despite being an obvious choice for leadership, Jane could see why Jaune was the leader. Pyrrha was more of a follower. Tell her to do a task and she would make sure it got done. She wasn't great at figuring out said tasks though, compared to her partner.

Lie Ren, probably the spiritual center of the group. He was something of a monk, utilizing bladed pistols and an incredible control of his somewhat below average Aura levels to devastate Grimm opponents. Sadly this didn't translate cleanly into more traditional combat. While still above average, he was more of an unhittable target, unable to truly dish out damage long term, but using speed and acrobatics to evade getting hit.

And of course, Nora Valkyrie. In a word, vibrant. She used a war hammer crossed with a grenade launcher to provide area of effect damage in the large scale. Her large Aura reserves and unique semblance allowed her to devastate opponents both Grimm and Human alike with laughable ease. Her only downside was the almost crippling amount of energy she had at every other moment of the day.

"Yup! We're facing team BRNZ in the team battles!" exclaimed the bombastic girl, having already finished her food. Ren wasn't too far behind, while Pyrrha and Jaune lagged behind, having hit what many would call 'the wall' in regards to consuming food.

"Any strategy planned?" asked Weiss, having finished. Jane did a double take, seeing the empty bowl next to her. Not even responding to the fact that the heiress somehow ate one half her body weight in pasta, Jane merely downed her beer, tearing the cap off the second. Again, she was oblivious to the shop keeper offering her a bottle opener.

"Jaune said not to talk about any strategy in public in case the enemy is listening!" exclaimed the hyper active girl, almost jumping to her feet. Leaning in, she half whispered, half shouted something towards Weiss and Jane.

"But secretly, we're going to break their legs!" Jane shuddered. The glee in that girl's eyes was far too familiar for her liking.

"Fair enough," replied Jane, taking a sip. Off handily, she noticed a girl in a toque walk by with a substantial amount of speed in her step.

"Always listening indeed," she replied, sipping again.

Conversation continued, the 9 of them talking about past fights, stories, families. Jane listened with interest to all of them, a calm sort of peace overtaking her. Perhaps it was the alcohol, perhaps it was the somewhat familiarity of the action, she wasn't sure, but it felt nice here.

A cold chill on her back brought her attention back.

Glancing around, she paused. The 8 of them were looking at her expectantly. Did they ask her something?

"Sorry, I wasn't paying attention," she mumbled, sipping. Good beer though.

"We were wondering about you. Except for Ruby, who's not telling, we don't know a whole lot about you!" Jane looked at Yang, her lilac eyes alight. There was an angle here. There had to be. She wasn't the kind of woman that would let information go. But why, what would she do with it?

"Yang's hoping that she can make more of her terrible pun's," elaborated Blake.

"They are not terrible! You just cannot appreciate good comedy!"

Noticing her beer was empty, Jane pushed the empty bottle away. Good beer too. Wouldn't do to get drunk in front of all these impressionable youths though.

"I'm from far away," she answered cryptically. "If I told you the truth, you wouldn't believe me." Seeing their questioning glares, and no sign of them ending, Jane sighed.

"I come from another world that destroyed itself in open warfare," she delivered bluntly, no inflection in her voice.

There was a pause.

 _Snort_ "Yeh right, sounds like the premise to a bad video game!" exclaimed Jaune. He was still working on his noodles. Weiss seemed to give up, instead staring at her denied credit card. Yang was laughing heartily, apparently the two blonds having something in common.

Ruby didn't say anything, knowing the truth of the matter. What surprised her was Nora, Ren and Blake, whom didn't laugh nor respond. Maybe they believed her? Nora did seem like the sort to pick up on unseen ques that even she might be broadcasting. Ren as well, although less so to an extent. He wasn't sure about Blake though.

 _WOULD TEAM JNPR PLEASE REPORT TO THE BATTLE GROUNDS IMMEDIATELY!_

The unmistakable voice of Port echoed over the PA system, the people in the fair grounds looking around, wondering if said team was nearby. Almost as soon as the initial announcement was made, what sounded like Oobleck spoke.

 _LIKE THEY WERE SCHEDULED TO, SEVERAL. MINUTES. AGO._

Glancing at the team in question, Jane could only grin when they adopted a nervous set of expressions.

"Well we should be going!" exclaimed Pyrrha, having finished her noodles. While they seemed OK now, Jaune was looking somewhat ill. If it was slightly off noodles, or one third his weight in said food item she wasn't sure.

"Best of luck!" exclaimed Ruby, giving them a double thumbs up. The three members wandered on, while Jaune trailed behind, holding his stomach.

"Mark my words, those noodles were off," finished Jane, standing up. Her teammates just scoffed, replying that there was nothing wrong.

* * *

"Just because you know how it goes, doesn't make it any less interesting." A small pop, and the speaker had turned a kernel into popcorn. Ignoring the looks from her followers, Cinder sat down in the seat, intent on watching the battle. Sure, the entire thing was being orchestrated, but it was much like painting a picture and admiring it.

Leaning back into the seat, she watched as the members of team JNPR fought, the outcome already decided. BRNZ was a good team, they had to be, but a focus on brawler combat with only one long range option was almost useless in a combat scenario like this. It was a clever matchup, but designed for the best outcome.

A person sat down next to her. She was intent to ignore them, until they spoke.

"Hi there! We haven't met yet, Jane Freewrite, proverbial 5th wheel. Nice to meet you!" Her head mechanically turned towards the speaker.

Younger, maybe just below twenty. Silver white hair, soft skin, a pair of black sunglasses hid her eyes. She was dressed in a beige coat that traveled to her ankles, while a white shirt, black pants and brown leather boots completed the image.

Of course she knew who Jane Freewrite was. This was the person who had ruined her plans to use Mercury in the single's tournament.

"A pleasure," replied Cinder, slipping into her student persona. In front of her, she saw Mercury and Emerald tense up, as if expecting a fight.

Fools. To fight here would be to unwind everything she had built up. To fight now, in such a public place, would ruin everything.

"I actually came over here to apologize to Mercury for blowing up his legs! Good thing they were already mechanical!" The exuberance of the woman annoyed her. Were they anywhere else she might seriously consider just ending her.

"Oh it's no problem," replied Mercury. "I had a couple of spares for situations like that. Honest training accident." He waved off the apology, eating his popcorn.

Down below, the two teams were still going at it. The sniper fire from BRNZ was keeping JNPR suppressed. Suddenly Cinder wasn't interested in the fight.

"Of course," replied Jane, her voice dipping slightly. "Training accidents are terrible. They have a funny way of _derailing_ things, don't they?"

Cinder blinked.

"Yeh, sparring was a bit hard while I was replacing the leg," he continued, apparently oblivious to Cinder. Emerald was torn between showing no interest and glancing at Cinder nervously.

"I can imagine. I should apologize though, something you _obviously_ intended to keep a secret became public knowledge. I can understand wanting to keep secrets," she replied, a grin on her face.

Her amber eyes narrowed.

 _She knows something._

Down below on the field, Nora had leapt atop the mountain course, gaining oversight. Unleashing her grenade launcher, she fired six rounds at once, obliterating the forest biome in it's entirety. Small scale fires burned, but there wasn't a lot to burn in and of itself.

"Well, thought I would just apologize and everything. Sorry I didn't get to it sooner Merc!" Standing up she reached over, grasping his hand and shaking it. Leaning further, she grasped Emerald's, giving it a firm shake.

"We haven't met, I'm the girl who blew up his legs. Hope I didn't cause too much trouble between you two love birds," she smirked, leaning back. Ignoring the blusters between the two of them, Jane turned to Cinder, holding a hand out.

"It was nice meeting you-" she trailed off, awaiting a response.

"Cinder. Cinder Fall," replied the raven haired woman. Reaching for Jane's hand, she grasped it.

 _ColdcoldsocoldsocoldSOCOLDLIKEDEATHSUCKINGAWAYCOLDCOLD_

Her hand flinched away at the contact. Jane's hand was like ice. Not a standard cold, like when working for long hours, but a deathly chill. A supernatural chill. Something that seemed to suck the life from her hand. It was barely a second but in that second she felt like she ran a mile.

"Are you ok?" asked Jane, concern on her face. Cinder just waved it off, making sure not to touch the unknown in front of her.

"It's fine, just a twinge," she lied, one hand rubbing her other, trying to breath some warmth into them.

"Well, I'll be leaving then," she stated, turning around. Cinder watched the woman walk away, heading for the exit. The fight didn't interest her anymore. Instead, this woman, Jane Freewrite, was the object of her attention. It would be hours before her finger's were anything close to warm.

"Find out everything about her," cut the half fall Maiden. Mercury and Emerald flinched at the tone, his popcorn jumping slightly.

As Jane strolled away, she reached into her pocket, pulling out her scroll. Turning the corner, she pulled it open, revealing Liberty.

"Liberty, we're getting involved."

* * *

 **I do not own RWBY or Fallout 3. All works belong to their respective creators.**

 **So, hope you enjoyed that. I just have a couple of questions. First, please read and review, I like getting input back from you guys. I know for a fact there are several thousand people whom view this when I post a new chapter.**

 **Second, would anyone be willing to draw Jane Freewrite for a cover image, perhaps as a commission? PM me if you're interested, with a link to some work you've done. Just a tiny request, but it's something I'd like for the story.**


	9. Wrath of the Wasteland

_It was raining. Black clouds covered the wasteland, the humid air doing it's best to smother the inhabitants. If you were smart, you stayed in cover, letting the deceptively harmless water fall to the earth. It stripped the ash from the air, the dust, the pollutants. For a while the air would be fresher, cleaner, everything existing in the quagmire underfoot._

 _Those who ventured into the downpour though learned the truth. Fed via the radioactive ocean next to it, the rain mixed with ash and dirt, creating an acid that melted all living beings. Didn't damage the rest of the wasteland, but everything else wouldn't fare well underneath the acidic shower._

 _Jane sat on a block, small fire crackling away. Her shelter was an old house, the concrete roof providing excellent protection from the deluge. Despite it being the height of the summer, a time when even the ash and dirt in the sky couldn't block out the sun's rays, a light coating of frost surrounded her._

 _Her pistol was stripped, parts resting on a concrete slab, small bottle of lubricant and an old cloth nearby. The terrible turn of weather gave her a chance to clean her gun, something that she had been meaning to do. Flakes of dirt and dried blood fell to the ground slowly, twirling gently as they fell from the gun. She methodically scrubbed the barrel shroud, making its silver metal shine._

" _You shot at me," she grunted to no one in particular. Placing the shroud on her jury rigged work table, she picked up another part, inspecting it. The handle was coated in dried blood. She chuckled slightly, seeing a sliver of bone stuck in grip._

" _Minding my own business and you decided to just take a shot at me." She grabbed the cloth and proceeded to scrub at it, removing the filth from it's form. She remembered her last kill with the pistol, punching a hole in a raider's chest, using him as a meat shield. It was probably part of a rib._

 _She finished, laying the handle on it's side. Grabbing the parts, she proceeded to methodically put it back together, letting the drum of the rain and mechanical sounds of well oiled metal sliding together sooth her. "Honestly, you weren't thinking there. Clearly_ I _wasn't, you can see for a long distance up here. Then again, I did try to avoid the mines. Those were you?"_

 _There was no response, just the pitter patter of rain on the earth and the soft metal clicks and scrapes of oiled metal sliding back together. She worked like that for several minutes, just putting it together, observing each part before adding another._

 _Behind her stood_ it, _doing nothing but stand there. The source of the frost surrounding her, keeping her cool on the hot day. She could see it, of course, in all it's terrible glory, while others couldn't. Where some saw their breath on the air, or frost on the wall, she saw it._

 _7 feet of nightmares. Swathed in black shadows, forever moving and shifting around it's form. Long skeletal arms tipped with massive claws. Tall legs. It was humanoid, but more of a mockery of it. The head is what made her nervous._

 _It was so clearly a skull, but blackened by fire. Ghostly flames drifted from the surface, their black coloring doing nothing to obscure the visage. Its grin was clearly unnatural, teeth sharpened into points. Empty eye sockets seemed to see all, missing nothing._

" _My friend here doesn't like you," she started. "It thinks that I should kill you. That I should beat your face against the wall until it's nothing but a bloody pulp. That I should break your knees and throw you into the rain, throwing you back when you crawl back in. It would be interesting." Snapping a part back, she grinned, pulling the slide. A smooth mechanical click sound and it snapped back._

" _I must admit; I've never seen a person melt." She frowned, memories fliting across her vision. "That is, without the assistance of fire," she corrected. Grabbing a magazine, she slipped it into the handle, pulling the slide again. A single round chambered itself, the smooth action pleasing her. She grabbed the bottle of lubricant and the rag, stuffing them both in her bag. Making sure she had her stuff, she turned to the figure propped up against the wall._

" _Arkansas was your name?" she queried, staring at the man on the ground._

 _Bound with strip of cloth and extra rope, an older man lay on the ground. He was gagged, preventing him from making any noise. Old clothing draped his form, pants held with a rope belt. It was clear he was suffering from radiation poisoning, open sores and lesions on his face and hands bleeding. While he couldn't make a noise, his eyes stared at her in abject terror, afraid to so much as breath heavily._

" _But personally, I think that if you're going to kill someone, do it quickly. No need to prolong the suffering. Don't you agree?"_

 _BAM!_

 _His head exploded, the round from her pistol shattering his fragile bone structure. Blood sprayed across the floor and onto the wall, coating it evenly in gore. Steam rose slightly from the barrel of her pistol, leveled at the corpse. Cold, lifeless red eyes just stared, while the figure in the corner just stood there, watching._

 _After what seemed like a minute, Jane put the gun away, making sure it was firmly placed in her coat. Reaching behind her, she grabbed the newly acquired sniper rifle. Having stripped and repaired it first, it was in extraordinarily good condition, the only feature marring its form being the rough scratching of 'Arkansas' on the barrel length._

" _Chop that would you?" she motioned, one hand pointed at the barrel. Like lightning, a black claw struck, severing the barrel just before the scratching's started. Now all she had was a close range rifle that could pump out .308 rounds. That would hurt. Making sure a round wasn't chambered, she stuffed it into her bag._

" _Waste not want not," she replied cheerfully, sitting back down. Her eyes drifted over to the cooling corpse. Remembering her earlier statement, Jane stared at the corpse._

" _I wonder," she mumbled. Getting back up she grasped the corpse by the arm, dragging it over to the ledge. With an almighty heave she threw the body off of the building, letting it slap into the earth. The sound of cracked bone echoed upwards. Instantly the rain soaked the clothing, washing away some of the blood. Tapping a few times on the pip boy, Jane watched intently, a small grin pulling at her mouth. The digital clock on her pip boy started counting upwards as the body below began to dissolve._

* * *

Jane stood there, a small smirk on her face. Next to her stood Blake, a decidedly less pleased look on her face.

"Told you," she grinned. Blake scowled.

"You don't have to rub it in," replied the cat faunus. Jane's smirk grew wider.

"Yeh, but really, I told you guys those noodles weren't safe."

Yang, Ruby, and Weiss, the three members of team RWBY, two of which were supposed to be fighting today in the double's section of the Vytal Festival, were currently laid up in bed. Ruby had a cold chill and a sheen of sweat on her face, the young leader having passed out almost an hour ago. Yang, if it was possible, had actually grown hotter, her bed now replaced with a steel slab and fire retardant foam. Her fever was causing her semblance to go slightly out of control. This was beyond the frequent bathroom trips and constant groaning.

Weiss seemed to be the worst, with a vomit bucket on stand by and looking like she went 10 rounds with a Deathclaw in hand to hand combat.

All three had gotten food poisoning from the noodles the previous day. Jane had questioned the shop keeper and had discovered that there was a crack in the pipes leading to his shop, causing unfiltered water to pass into the system. Fortunately, it was a mild case, and the Aura of the students would make sure they were ready to go the next day.

Sadly, they could not compete today.

Ozpin stood nearby, coffee in one hand and cane in the other. His frown was present on his face, the circumstance clearly undesirable. With Yang and Weiss unable to fight, Blake and Jane would have to step in.

"Obviously they cannot compete. Ms. Freewrite and Ms. Belladonna will have to fight," commanded the headmaster. His tone gave no room to broker an argument. Nearby Glynda nodded, marking down something on her scroll. Jane merely nodded, glancing to Blake. The faunus was looking back at her, amber eyes full of questions. She ignored the distrust the assassin had for her. She didn't care what Blake felt about her. Most of it was probably true.

"We'll talk strategy in a minute. Preferably in a training room." Blake nodded at that, before briefly glancing back to her team. Jane tracked her eyes, seeing them drift the longest over the blonde, whom was doing her best to roast her bed.

"If you want to stay for a bit, I'll go grab us a room?" offered Jane, the proverbial olive branch extended. Blake nodded, slightly taken aback by the offer. Jane turned to Ozpin, a smile on her face. It was not matched by said headmaster. She could see the wheels turning in his head. Circumstances were different then he must have planned. Inwardly she scowled. The man had more plans than the Enclave.

"Well this is a weird circumstance, isn't it Ozzy?" she asked, hands in her pockets. The man nodded, merely sipping his coffee.

"Indeed. It is fortunate that you are a fifth member of team RWBY, or else I fear they may have been disqualified due to non-participation. I hope you'll do your best to win?" he asked, a glint in his eyes. Jane laughed.

"Don't worry, I know how much this means to you. I'll be sure to win this silly tournament." Stepping beside him she proceeded to head down the hall, aiming towards the locker rooms. Looking over her shoulders, she nodded, seeing she was the only one present. Reaching into her pocket, she grabbed her scroll, unfolding it.

"Liberty, get yourself into the computer systems. I want you on every level monitoring every device. If somebody does the digital equivalent of a sneeze I want to know," she commanded. Not awaiting a reply, she stashed the device back into her pocket. Reaching inside the locker, she lifted her MG32 out.

"Time to have some fun," she laughed.

* * *

"So, Atlas academy. Thoughts on whom we might expect?" queried Jane, stretching one arm. She was standing in the middle of the arena, decked out in her armor. Her pip boy was on her arm, it's heavy presence almost comforting in a way. The MG32 hung inside her jacket, hidden from view. Her pistol, although she was thinking of renaming it a bolter, given its excessive calibre size, was on her back, attached magnetically. Her shock sword was hanging on her hip, batteries charged.

Beside her Blake was experimentally twirling her sword on the ribbon. "It's a military academy. Weiss would know more, but they're probably more regimented. Uniforms, plans, strategy. They can probably be traced to a standard military doctrine. We might be able to exploit that." A few more twirls and she sheathed it on her back. A little grandiose, but it got the job done.

Jane was about to respond when there was a flash of bright color, streaking from behind them. Hand flinching to her sword, Jane paused, seeing the bright light stop.

"Or we could get that," remarked Blake, eyes wide as saucers.

Before the two of them stood their opponents. One was immediately noticeable. Clearly a cat faunus, she was dressed in brightly colored clothing, covering enough that it was considered decent to wear. A large portion of her outfit was composed of novelty goods, ranging from a collar with a bell, to various wrist bands. On her feet were roller blades, the source of the extreme amount of movement.

Beside her, much more muted, stood a figure that actually looked familiar in dress. A three-piece suit minus the jacket, fedora and all, he struck a very American figure. His blue tie wasn't done up, but the look suited him. Oddly enough, his weapon of choice looked like a modified trumpet.

The two teams stood across from each other, not making a move. Clearly the colorful one was full of energy, as if waiting for something.

"Go for the fast one. I can't catch match her speed," snapped Jane. Blake nodded, flexing her hands.

"Can I get you to cover me with your gun when I need it?" questioned Blake, checking the clip on her pistol. Jane nodded.

"Just let me know when you need it. Oh, and duck." Flexing her hands, Jane drew her sword and pistol, readying herself. Above them, the counters spun, selecting the environments for their fight.

The sounds of people cheering, shouting, screaming were drowned out, her mind focusing. The environment blocks lifted up, creating the battle field.

Behind her was a Desert and Lava biome, complete with amplified heat from the desert and geysers of flaming lava. Across from them was a more traditional water geyser combined with an urban setting. Those would be somewhat familiar for her, environments that she had battled in extensively.

A timer hung in the sky, counting down from ten. Her opponents readied themselves, the skater girl lowering her stance, while bugle boy brought his weapon to ready.

"Just do what you think works, I'm used to working alone. This'll be tricky at best," finished Jane.

 _3_

 _2_

 _1_

 _BEEP_

Blake dashed forward, crossing over and aiming for the skater. A swipe from her sword forced her back, skating back quickly into the urban environment. The sounds of gunshots grew slightly distant, leaving Jane with her opponent.

He was smirking, trumpet raised, as if waiting for her. Grinning beneath her helmet, Jane raised her bolter, firing a round experimentally. He dodged cleanly, bringing his weapon to bear. Blowing into it, rather than a projectile or something similar, a loud blare issued forth.

Jane stumbled back, the sound waves pushing her backwards with pure force. Unable to get her footing, she kept stumbling backwards, her upper body throwing her center of balance off. Throwing her arms back, she used the momentum to flip herself, landing in a crouch. With her center of mass fixed, she proceeded to crouch/walk forward, taking pot shots with her gun, forcing him to dodge left and right.

By this point, the noise was getting increasingly painful, her helmet doing nothing to cease the echoes. Any second now and he would have to talk a breath, opening the window in which she could act. Swapping the clips on her pistol, she continued to force herself forward, doing her best to ignore the noise.

It stopped, the opponent taking a rather large breath.

 _Now_

Exploding forward with an unnatural amount of speed, she closed the distance between the two of them almost instantly, sword lashing out. He lowered his weapon, using the front of it to block her sword. The sound of shrieking metal and sparks issued forth, lighting up the space between them briefly.

Pushing her gun forward, she jammed it against his ribs, pulling the trigger. The explosive bolt fired, impacting almost immediately against his aura barrier. On the screen above, it dipped noticeably, going from green to yellow. The force of the bolt pushed him backwards violently into the lava biome, his quick footwork saving him from a fiery geyser.

"JANE! NOW!"

Blake's voice echoed from across the battlefield. Twisting on instinct, her pistol slapped onto her back, attaching magnetically to her holster. Her now free hand vanished beneath her coat, pulling forth the MG32. Quickly verifying that Blake was in cover, she spied the multi colored skater.

 _BRRRRRRRRRRRT!_

The bullet hose fired, unloading ammunition at an unholy rate. A veritable cone of death issued forth, explosive shells flying forth. The cat girl's eyes widened, seeing the storm approach. Blake was crouched on the ground, avoiding the carnage.

The cat girl instead brought up her nun chucks. Cracking them, blue light flared into existence, right as the first bullet arrived. Spinning rapidly in a circular disk, she somehow managed to deflect the bullets, the momentum of the shells being redirected.

Coincidentally, the trajectory of some of these were right back to Blake. Despite her mad scramble, she still received a few hits of friendly fire, the explosive round sending her in several directions. Releasing the trigger, seeing it was doing more harm than good, Jane returned to her fight, only to duck quickly.

The man's fist flew over her head, trumpet all but forgotten. Scanning around quickly, Jane saw it lying on the ground, the lava geyser apparently melting it part way. This was now a straight up fist fight between two combatants.

Dropping her pistol, she brought a clenched fist up, smashing the appendage into his ribs. The knuckle duster encased in the gloves focused the energy, causing the air to exit from his lungs quickly. On the screen, his Aura dropped another several points.

She stood up, flipping her sword around so that it was in a reverse grip. Her free hand grasped his shirt, fist clenching into the fabric. Kicking her right leg out, she swept his legs out from under him, forcing him to the ground. Rather than letting him hit, she kept him partially suspended. Pulling her arm back, her fist flew, smashing into his face. Another few points fell off the board. Growling in frustration, she reared back.

"See how you like this," she grinned. A coolness entered her veins, the muscles in her arm tightening even further. If she looked behind her, she would see _it_ standing behind her, one clawed appendage resting on her shoulder.

With a crack, her fist flew, the blow striking his face. His Aura dropped completely, vanishing into a grey bar. She was aware of his nose breaking, the soft cartilage shattering under her steel fist. Distantly she was aware of some booing in the crowd.

Dropping the now unconscious figure, she stood to her full height, retrieving her pistol. Making sure it hadn't been damaged, she turned to the other fight, seeing Blake having a bit of a harder time against the cat girl.

Leveling her pistol, Jane aimed, waiting for a good shot. Using her sword gun and sheath, Blake did an excellent job of redirecting the ice covered nun chuck, but had difficulty getting hits. To compound issues, her left side had a thick layer of ice, obviously a missed strike. Her Aura was in the yellow, while cat girl was still in the green.

Circling around, making sure to stay behind the battle, Jane kept her pistol leveled, staying outside of the visual range of Blake's combatant. She idly noticed _it_ following, staying on her right side.

Catching Blake's eye, she held up three fingers. Understanding, Blake readied herself.

 _3_

Jane focused on the cat girl, lining up the sights. Blake readied herself, positioning around some cover, in case the girl used her nun chucks to deflect another bullet.

 _2_

Pulling the hammer back, she watched Blake shift her stance. Pushing one foot out, Jane prepared herself for the inevitable recoil. She didn't expect it to be severe, but this one shot might turn the tide of the battle. An odd look entered her eye, small smile pulling at her lips beneath the helmet.

 _1_

 _It_ reached over, both clawed appendages grasping her arm. One gripped her shoulder, the cold feeling from before back a hundred fold. It spread through her body, accelerating down her torso and leg, almost riveting her to the spot. The other clasped her hand, the feeling spreading through her hand and into the gun.

Ice crept around the barrel, enshrouding it and increasing its weight. Panic entered her eyes, _it_ never having done this before. Her pip boy started squawking, the Geiger counter starting to scream.

"MOVE!" Her scream tore across the battlefield, alerting the cat girl. She dived away, just as Jane pulled the trigger, the hammer firing.

An explosion tore forth from the barrel, a single round flying forth at hyper-sonic speeds. It ripped across the battlefield, tearing up loose debris and cracking concrete with the pressure wave. The cat girl had managed to move out of the way, avoiding the round. Jane's yell was what she would later attribute to her survival.

The round impacted in part of the urban environment. A bright, white flash lit up the area, forcing most viewers to look away. Sound came next, the roaring of fire and heat raising the temperature degrees in an instant, even at range. The shock-wave from the explosion forced everyone off their feet, flying backwards. Black impacted a boulder, her Aura dropping just into the red. Jane was next, striking the ground, rolling several times as ice broke off from her body. Cat girl was last, flying directly through a geyser, draining her Aura enough so as to leave it in the red.

A loud buzzer sounded, completely at odds with the even that had just happened.

Quickly getting to her feet, Jane surveyed what had happened, paling at the sight. A mushroom cloud rose above the stadium, residual heat and fire lighting it up. Her Geiger counter, thankfully, was not squawking, so there was no radiation in the immediate vicinity.

"What the hell did you do?" she whispered, looking at the figure standing before the devastation. Tall, swathed in darkness, _it_ only stared back.

* * *

She stood over a table, weapon torn apart. Nearby her Geiger counter ticked occasionally, indicating the radioactivity of the parts. Scrubbing the weapon of any dirt or debris, her mind wasn't present, focusing on the battle previously.

Nearby, _it_ stood, watching her.

"What did you do?" she questioned. As always, the being didn't respond, just watching her instead. Cursing, Jane scrubbed at the inside of the barrel, seeing an odd amount of corrosion. Whatever _it_ had done, it hastened the damage to her barrel by an order of magnitude.

"You've hung around since Point Lookout. Never spoken, never acted, just talked. Life threatening situations, places where I arguably committed acts that should see me banished to the 9th circle of hell. And yet it's a mere contest where you act, turning my shot into something along the lines of a mini nuke. If it's not too much to ask, then I'd like an answer!" She all but screamed her question, standing up. The mess on the table became even more disarrayed, the Geiger counter ticking faster.

For a long moment, _it_ just stared at her, as if challenging her. After a long slow minute, it raised an arm, a single clawed finger pointing at a bookshelf. A single jerk and it speared a text, before returning to the same position. Narrowing her eyes, Jane grumbled, stepping around the table and grabbing the book.

"Semblance and You?" She looked up at the thing. So this was her semblance?

"Semblance is an internal force. You probably aren't internal, last time I checked." She laid the book down, returning to the weapon's maintenance. A long stretch of silence continued, broken only by the squeaking of cloth and oil on metal.

Satisfied with the parts, she started assembling the pieces, meticulously checking each one before sliding home the next. It was calming in a way, taking her mind off of recent events. She didn't want to dwell on the battle, content to ignore Blake whom seemed to be trying to speak with her.

Her scroll vibrated softly, the lump that was her armored storm coat muffling the noise. Sighing, she reached over, grabbing the communications device. Reading the report Liberty had assembled, she dropped her head, releasing an almost pained sigh.

"Fuck."

* * *

"Are you sure of this?"

A nod.

"How soon do you think it might happen?"

A shrug. Jane leaned against the desk, arms crossed. Ozpin sat at his desk, multiple windows pouring over the information Liberty had assembled. Hidden messages, graphs tracking dust shipments and robberies, stolen bullheads, even police records relating to the White Fang. Truly the homicidal AI had painted a not so pretty picture.

"I predict that an attack will occur near the end of the tournament. White Fang have been moving troops and equipment recently. Coupled with the Mount Glenn attack and theft of various aircraft, I can only guess they intend to launch a large scale attack on the arena itself," she continued.

Ozpin folded his fingers, ever present coffee forgotten. His gold eyes looked through the floating displays, his mind elsewhere.

"The question is why? Why would the White Fang attack an international festival? They have nothing to gain," he cursed. Jane looked up, pondering. It was several minutes of silence before she responded.

"They're looking for something." Ozpin froze. "It's possible they aren't the highest authority in this shindig. They might just be pawns, working for somebody. Based upon some police reports the White fang didn't behave like this until a few months ago."

Jane pointed to a folder hovering in the air. It expanded, showing various police reports.

"Combined with rising Dust robberies, the Fang shifted from harassment and inciting violence, all the way to large scale criminal activities. Clearly a change in leadership. The major question is still why," she muttered, trailing off.

Her eyes glanced over to Ozpin, seeing his reaction. His hands were clenched, eyes hardened. Behind those eyes she could see his thoughts flying, thinking things only he could see.

A soft light flared into existence on the desk. Both people snapped their attention over to the corner of the desk. Ozpin leaned over and pushed it, a video feed opening. It was clearly an elevator, the high angle looking into a small box room with a single double sliding door. Inside stood Pyrrha, trying her best not to wince at what was probably terrible elevator music.

Ozpin nodded, eyes glancing towards Jane.

"Ms. Freewrite, how invested are you in the future?" he asked.

Jane almost reeled back, the strangeness of the question throwing her for a loop. What precisely did he mean?

"To elaborate, in the coming conflict, are you willing to commit your resources for what's right? To stand as Darkness hammers upon our gates and defend the innocent?" Gesturing towards the screens, he continued, sipping some of his now remembered coffee.

"Pieces and players are moving into position. I fear events are unfolding that shall change the fabric of what we know. Your findings paint a disturbing image, and I want to know if you will stand with us." His words were honest. She could detect no lie from him. He spoke as if he had done this before.

Jane snorted.

"You speak as if this is a game of chess, with pawns and knights and bishops. This is no game Ozpin, no formal bit of conflict, a contest between two people. What you've got coming is war."

Walking slowly over to the window, Jane stared into the sunset, orange light filling the green toned room. Her arms spread themselves slightly, black tinted glasses lighting up.

"Your nations have not known war in it's form in almost 200 years. They have not seen the mountains of dead, the atrocities committed. The endless lengths the other party will go to, in the name of god, king, and country. War is a word you throw around half halfheartedly, thinking you know it's meaning."

She spun around, facing Ozpin. His eyes widened, taking in her form. Here, she seemed more than human. As if she was speaking with more than just her own experience, more than just a passerby. It was here he was reminded of his first meeting with her, locked in a prison cell aboard an airship, speaking of an alternate existence.

Behind her, the sunset stretched her shadow across the floor. But where he expected the shadow of Jane Freewrite, slim bodied and with a large coat, instead the shadow was of a great beast, long arms and claws, shadowy flames flickering off of it's form.

"I know war. For years I breathed it, embraced it in all it's terrible beauty. When I couldn't experience it more myself, I delved into archives and libraries, reading about past conflicts on a scale you couldn't imagine."

She breathed, hands clenching. Ozpin watched, enthralled, as the Wastelander seemed to forget where she was.

"War is not a game Ozpin, it is a state of being. I will fight not because it is good or right, not because the fate of the world hangs in the balance. No, I will fight because it is what I do."

She paused, putting her hands back into her pockets. Releasing a breath she had been holding, a manic grin stretched over her face, crimson eyes hidden by her glasses.

"And I am exceedingly good at it."

Had he truly made the right choice? Ever since he had enrolled Jane at Beacon, she had seemed to be doing well. Beyond the incident at the bar in Vale, she had proved to be good for team RWBY, a person whom brought life exposure to the team. Somebody whom could tell them about the harsh realities and who wasn't a family member.

Now, now he was unsure about his choice. It was clear she was mentally unsound in some way. Her view on combat bordering on a fetish was unsettling at the very least. Her ability to procure this much information and draw these conclusions that only he could guess at spoke of a brilliant mind, toeing the line between unnatural.

Regardless, if she was such a loose cannon, then better to point her at the enemy.

"Whilst War and Chess might be separate, the opening moves can be likened as a game, placing pieces and resources prior to open conflict. You're in the setup phase Ozpin. You, the King, commanding your forces in the shadows, fighting this 'Queen' figure. You can only guess at her motives. I know a fair bit Ozpin, more than I've let on."

His eyes widened. How did she know about the 'Queen'? That information was classified.

"How-"

"Simple, you've networked a pocket portable device with two cameras and a half dozen microphones to a global network spanning 4 nations. It isn't hard to turn on one of those microphones every now and then." As if to prove her point, she pulled out her scroll, tapping a few onscreen buttons. Immediately a sound file played.

" _The Queen is moving. She is here in Vale, but I can't tell where."_

The voice was familiar to Ozpin. Crow.

" _Keep searching. I'm going to inform Ms. Nikkos of her involvement in the future. Before the Queen can steal the rest."_

" _I'll keep searching. I've got a lead in Vale that might prove useful."_

" _Do what you can Crow."_

The file stopped.

"So what exactly is Nikkos going to find out? I presume that's why she's on her way up?" Jane grinned.

The elevator dinged, the doors opening. Pyrrha stepped out, faltering at the sight of Jane standing over a wide eyed Ozpin, his hand on his cane.

"Is this a bad time, sir?" she asked timidly.

LLLL

Screaming.

They couldn't hear it, but she could.

The figure inside the box was screaming, her soul torn in half. Visible only to her, a yellow line stretched into the distance, fading with every meter. It swayed slightly, as if following somebody.

Her peaceful form was at odds with the scars marring her face, the endless screaming echoing all around. Behind her, _it_ growled, the temperature inside the vault lowered dramatically, small amounts of ice and frost forming on the ground.

"You play with forces beyond your ken Ozpin. Her soul is broken. This machine you've crafted is, in a word, unnatural." Behind her, Pyrrah stood there, a hand over her mouth, as if trying not to vomit.

"It is what's best right now. The Queen gaining her full powers would be catastrophic. As I'm sure you've guessed, this is what she, and by extension, the White Fang, are looking for."

Jane nodded. Ozpin and Pyrrha were talking behind her. Details about what this represented, who the woman in the box was, what she was expected to do, it all flew over Jane.

 _It_ stood in front of the technological monstrosity, keeping the woman alive by forcing her soul to retain its place in her body. Jane's lips curled in disgust. The mere fact that this kind of technology existed was an insult to nature.

"Calm yourself," she mumbled, eyes flicking over to _it's_ figure. "They'll get what's coming to them," she finished. The ice stopped spreading, but it didn't recede. If Ozpin noticed the frost, he wasn't telling.

"So what's the game plan here Ozpin?" yelled Jane, slowly rotating to face the two of them, her upper body swinging wide.

"Gonna transplant half a soul onto somebody? To what end? Some grand battle using hero's of old and mystical powers? Throw all of your eggs into a basket with a single stratagem?"

She spread her arms, gesturing around the cavernous facility. "Were you going to force Pyrrha into this thing? Or give her time to think? Let's assume she even goes through with this, what next? Have you got a handy 'How to be a Maiden' book lying around?" Facing Pyrrha, Jane pointed at her.

"And you, miss 'I can do no wrong!' Are you seriously considering this? A man you are supposed to trust is basing an entire scheme, of which he won't divulge anything!" she laughed, striding towards the duo. Ozpin's took a step protectively between Jane and Pyrrah. To her credit, Pyrrha had adjusted into a ready stance. The situation had devolved, not turning out how Ozpin had expected. With no small amount of shock, he noticed the temperature had dipped, his breath appearing in the air.

Jane halted mid step, seeing Ozpin's stance. Her eyes widened, a demented grin overtaking her face.

"Oh, oh this is rich!" she laughed. "You're going to protect her from me?" The torches on the wall dimmed, the temperature dropping significantly. Frost had covered most of the area behind Jane, with thicker ice starting to form in cracks and corners. Ozpin noticed with no small amount of agitation that the ice was forming over the Aura transfer unit.

"And what would you suggest?"

Jane directed her attention to Pyrrha, the question stopping her.

"Well," she started, folding her arms behind her back. "I would do away with this nonsense. Throwing your lot behind an off chance with mystical powers and legends is a sure fire way to have things end badly." Turning to the left slightly, Jane strode forward, circling the two of them, her hands still clasped behind her.

"You need cause fear. Fear of the unknown. You're opponent thrives on mystery and intrigue, obscuring their motives behind grand displays. You need to strike from the shadows and strike hard. A blitzkrieg of attacks that come from everywhere and nowhere."

Jane turned to them and grinned, having walked a full circle. The ice had fully formed around the chamber, creating a dome of black translucent material.

"Show them your conviction. That you are willing to slug it out in whatever grand fight you believe will happen."

Ozpin stared at her. Pyrrha stood behind him, shivering slightly. Silence stretched between them. Jane stood between them and the pods, the cold not affecting her.

"How can you be so sure?" Jane gave a pointed look at the huntress in training. A small grin pulled at her mouth. The shadows in the room lengthened slightly, stretching away from the three of them.

"Because, I know what this feels like. And this definitely feels like there's a larger plan at stake."

Ozpin didn't move, simply watching. Pyyrha had moved her hand nearer to her weapon, but wasn't making any moves. Smirking, Jane strode away, heading for the elevator. The only sound were her footsteps, echoing in the now darkened and freezing chamber. Right before she hit the elevator, Pyyrha called out.

"Back during the fight, you did something, caused that enormous explosion. What was that?" Jane paused, finger over the button. Several thoughts came to mind. How could she phrase what exactly was the reason. Her crimson eyes flicked over to _it,_ standing there, clawed hand over the newly formed ice dome.

"Semblance," she replied, pressing the button. The doors shut, elevator slowly rising.

* * *

 **I do not own RWBY or Fallout 3. All works belong to their respective creators.**

 **Well this one was forced as hell. Next chapter we're diving into the Volume 3 finale equivalent. In the reviews, I'm just asking that you answer a question for me.**

 **Wait for Rooster Teeth to release volume 4 and proceed along with that?**

 **Or start on my own tangent?**

 **I've got my own ideas on how to proceed, just wanting to get an idea of what people would prefer. Also, fun part, I scrubbed half the last chapter just this evening and rewrote the entire combat section. So that was fun.**

 **As always R &R guys, it helps! Oh! And there's one guy in Romania who read this! Shout out to you!**


	10. Like a Star

_Even during the height of the summer, it wasn't hot._

 _Light would beam forth from the sun, it's rays lighting up the area during the day. While that created a day and a night, easily distinguishable from another, the ash and dust in the air kept the heat away. In reality, the temperature of the Wasteland hovered just below 60 degrees. The lingering radiation hot spots were responsible for any warmth in that land._

 _The Potomac was flowing heartily simply because the radiation kept it hot enough not to freeze. Pools of water existed, but those were irradiated pools, almost boiling with their own heat. Even the earth couldn't get any colder during this time of year, the ambient radiation cooking it._

 _This explained how during the height of what was once known as the summer months, she could be wearing her armor and storm coat and not feel the adverse effects of overheating._

 _Jane stood on the once familiar outcropping, gazing at the view. From here she could see Megaton in the distance, followed by the burned out town, a few rocky outcroppings, a gas station. All landmarks she had explored once._

 _Behind her was an unassuming wooden shack door, half bolted into the rock face. She stood there, arms crossed, trying her best to ignore it. On her arm, her pip boy was blaring an automated radio broadcast, endlessly repeating. She had long since drowned the noise out, instead standing at the cliff, thinking._

 _She had been on her way to the Citadel for resupply, right before heading for a newly arrived boat. Apparently there was a woman trying to find her daughter. The Enclave had been lying low recently, raider activity dropping, so she figured she would help out, if only to pass the time._

 _And then she had gotten the broadcast._

 _Standing there, she listened to the radio message once more._

 _This is an automated distress message from Vault-Tec: Vault 101. Message begins: It feels like you left home a long time ago, but I know you're still out there. I just hope you're still alive to hear this. Things got worse after you left. My father's gone mad with power. If you can hear this, please stop looking for your dad and help stop mine. I changed the door password to my name. If you're hearing this, and if you still care enough to help me, you should remember it. Message repeats:_

 _Finally flicking a switch, she turned the radio off, breathing._

" _Could I go back?" she mumbled to herself, crimson eyes going distant. Thoughts came to her aimlessly, idle fantasies where she could go back, shed her gun and her coat, live a peaceful life just fixing the vault, no danger, no threat of death. A soft smile came to her, the fantasy warming her heart._

 _In the distance, gunshots sounded, wiping the smile from her face._

 _No, this is the Wasteland. I can't go back._

 _Spinning around, she tore the door open, heading into the cave. Down the slope and past skeletons, she reached the end of the tunnel, and the beginning of the Vault. Standing there, she couldn't help but admire it._

 _Blue steel, faded yellowed numbering, it's cog shape proving distinctive. Truly it was a piece of engineering, something to be celebrated, even if it's secret purpose was much darker than originally thought._

 _Turning to the terminal, Jane typed in the password, her old friend's name coming naturally._

" _AMATA. Don't make me regret coming back," she mumbled. Slowly grabbing her pistol, she held it loosely, ready for the worst. Her sword would be useless in the confined quarters, while her shotgun was a bit overkill for vault security armor._

 _The cog wheel screeched, rotating slightly on it's axis. Memories and thoughts unbidden came to her, constantly flashing in front of her face._

 _Why was she returning here?_

 _Her entire life had been hell here._

 _Cold halls, unfriendly faces._

 _Adults who didn't care._

 _She closed her eyes, inhaling. These thoughts were useless. Amata needed her help and she was the only reason she was heading back into the vault._

 _Orange warning lights flashed, the door coming to a stand still. Even through her mask, the recycled air of the vault was distinct, the metal tang carrying the thickness of hundreds of years of collective human habitation. Stepping forward, her foot struck the metal grating inside, creating a metal thunking sound._

 _Beyond the flashing lights, blaring sirens, there was no movement. No people, no guards, not even a rad roach. A grimace crossed her face. How she loathed this place._

 _Heading for the door, she descended the steps, heading into the Vault. Amata wanted her help, and while she hated this place, she owed Amata. Those years of friendship and solidarity meant so much to her._

 _Behind her, the screeching of the vault door echoed, the cog slowly closing. It's echoing boom left a foul taste in her mouth._

" _Fucking vault," she muttered, descending deeper._

* * *

A snarl escaped her mouth, arm flexing as the recoil from her pistol shook her. Ahead, another Grimm fell, it's forward momentum smashing it face first into the earth. Another shot, and the one behind it met a similar fate. A few beowolf were still charging, egged on with the death of their pack mates. Her crimson eyes flashed, the muzzle flash from her gun illuminating her briefly. The large calibre shots flew downrange, exploding against the lupine forms.

Jumping left, she avoided one of the flying Griffins from striking at her, instead sending a shot into it's wing, maiming it. It ended it's upwards trajectory, instead smashing into the ground. Stepping to the stunned form, Jane drew her sword, unceremoniously stabbing it through the base of the neck.

Spinning around, she slashed her sword, severing the limb from another Grimm intend on killing her. Thumbing the switch, lightning arced across the blade, just in time for a second strike. The Grimm, not expecting the charge, roared in pain, it's muscles tightening uncontrollably as the current danced through it's system.

"Fucking animals," she cursed, delivering a shot through the downed creatures skull. Misfiring neurons forced its muscles to twitch, leaving the corpse to twitch.

Seeing it was clear for now, Jane pulled out her scroll. "Liberty! Status update!" she yelled, jogging forward. A mess of airships had started heading for the school, and she had to get there. But being in Vale City limited her capabilities to get there.

"The Coliseum has been struck by an attack. Initial reports from Atlas Sentinels list White Fang offloading Grimm onto the docks. Before the units went off line, chemical tracers for explosives were detected. Bullheads have been loading Grimm into the City as well. Currently outbound communications to the other Kingdoms are down. I am fighting the Black Queen Virus now, but limited processing power limits me."

Turning a corner, Jane paused, seeing the group of boarbatusks chasing civilians. With a barely contained growl, she holstered her pistol, hand dashing beneath her armored storm coat. Bringing the LMG to bear, she fired, letting hundreds of rounds fly downrange, impacting on the creatures and completely missing the civilians.

Not checking on their condition, she dashed forward, heading towards the commercial district docks. Hopefully there was a Bullhead there she could commandeer. Beacon had an uplink to the CCTS network. While going to the actual building would be preferable, Liberty had pulled reports that there was a horrendous amount of Grimm activity surrounding the tower, making a go at the tower impossible. Fortunately the school had a physical uplink that ran right to the central tower. She could use that.

"Can you at least make local calls? Figure out what the hell is going on? Contact anybody?" she yelled, firing another burst with her MG32. The belt jostled as rounds flew through the mechanism, muzzle flash lighting the street up. Another pack of Beowolves fell, limbs exploding and flesh tearing.

"Local communications are being drowned out. My current hardware platform does not have the required capacity to override the network slowdown. In addition, the Virus is redirecting calls to random IP's, preventing a successful connection."

"Fucking Christ almighty!" she screamed, sword flashing. Another Grimm died. "Commercial docks 400 meters away," continued the AI. Jane nodded, springing towards the metaphorical finish line.

"Can you at least pilot a Bullhead?" Another slash, another shot, a burst from her LMG. Grimm fell before her in bloody explosions, coating her weapons and form in viscera.

"Affirmative," replied the AI. "Well thank God we've got that," she replied. Turning the corner, she felt like jumping for joy.

In the docks, on several landing pads, were the familiar shapes of Bullheads. A large group of people were entering them, probably intent on leaving. Her smile turned into a frown. She needed one of those ships, and a boatload of weak willed civilians wouldn't do.

Striding up to an airship, she grabbed one of the people, tossing them out via the back of their shirt. Aiming upwards, she fired a shot, getting the attention of the people inside.

"Alright people!" she yelled, ignoring the protesting man lying on the ground. "I'm taking this airship up to Beacon. Word is the situation up there is worse. If you come, there's a chance you will die. If you stay and get onto another ship, you still may die, but it's less likely. Make your choice!" she yelled, the engines of a nearby ship revving up.

A disgusted look crossed her face, seeing these people care for so little that they dashed madly out the exit, leaving a full ship. Not even the guy lying on the ground was putting up a fight. Withholding a curse, she stepped up the ramp, slapping her scroll into a nearby port. Immediately the engines revved, the door closing.

"Take me to Beacon Liberty! And don't spare the horses!" she yelled. Holstering her pistol and tossing her sword onto the bench seating, she stepped into the cockpit, staring out at the city below. The sun had fallen, leaving the only light coming from the city lighting. At least the power was still on. Things could get a lot worse if there was no power.

Spinning around, she flinched, not expecting _it_ to be standing so close. Hoping to side step the thing, she cursed when it stepped to the left, blocking her.

"What the fuck do you want?" she spat, her voice coming out with a mechanical quality. "I don't have time to play twenty questions with you. Just answer me!" Her voice was somewhat hoarse, constantly cursing and yelling for the past hour had taken its toll.

Jane stumbled back when a clawed hand of _it_ rose up, reaching for her. It came within an inch of her before impacting upon a greenish yellow barrier sprung up. Confusion spread across her face, hidden by her mask. What the hell was _it_ doing with her Aura? Not that it proved to be effective, a few hits and it was gone.

The next thing she knew, she was pinned to the empty pilot seat, the length of her sword protruding from her gut.

"FUCK!" Her hands instinctively flew to the handle of the blade, hoping to pull it out. Despite the pain, her screams paused when the clawed appendages flew forth, grasping her hands, holding them at her sides. Looking up, she swore her heart stopped.

 _It_ stood there, blackened skull face and flowing black flames curling around, just inches from her masked face.

Jane had not felt fear in a long time. She had felt worry, like when she left the Vault for the first time. When she fought the Enclave, there was a small amount of fear, sure, but in all her years, even inside the Vault, she had never known fear like this. Cold, heart stopping blood freezing fear. She hadn't known fear like this at all.

Blood started to trickle from the corner of her mouth. Words were not coming to her, only strangled gasps and attempts to breath.

And then it's jaw opened, and it spoke for the first time.

 _Now, your soul is open._ Its voice was cold, airy, drifting only slightly across the gap. It didn't feel like it was speaking, instead enforcing a will upon the universe. Words echoed inside her head, rattling around. If the thing had eyes, she knew it would be staring deep into hers, ignoring the lenses of her mask.

 _And now,_ it whispered, _we can be onnnnne!_ With a burst, it flew forwards, into Jane. If one was standing outside, they would be able to hear the screams from within the Bullhead.

* * *

Yang bolted through the halls, making sure people had abandoned the building. Beacon was being overrun, White Fang fighting alongside Atlas mechs were sowing panic, gunning down everybody in sight. The Grimm were indiscriminate, targeting everybody who wasn't their own.

Most students had their weapons in their lockers, would couldn't be summoned until they were outside. Even still, something was jamming the network, preventing launch codes from sending the lockers. Only those who were at Amity Coliseum had their weapons, and they were too few defenders.

"Is anybody here!" Sprinting through the dorms, she pounded on doors, making sure everybody had gotten out. So far she had only run into a few people, but they already had their weapons and were heading for the courtyard where people were massing. According to some of the staff they had arranged for Bullheads to arrive, ready to evacuate to – somewhere.

She cursed, turning a corner. At the end of the hall was her room, and a little past that Jane's room. With a swift right hook she blew the door off the hinge, entering her dorm. Quickly, she grabbed her scroll from it's charging dock, as well as a bag.

"Ruby will want her weapon cleaning kit, Blake would kill me if I forgot her books," she grinned, stuffing the aforementioned items into the bag. If they were evacuating, it made sense to grab things of importance. She had the chance and it wouldn't weigh her down at all. Stopping by Weiss's bed, she grabbed the girls makup kit, the thing being the only object of importance to the heiress besides her weapon. She zipped the bag up and proceeded towards Jane's room.

Another swift punch and the door was gone, revealing the contents to her. A quick glance around the room for anything of interest.

Truth be told she didn't know Jane that much. Ruby seemed to have a better relationship with her than the rest of the team. Yang trusted the woman mostly because Ruby liked her. Despite any misgivings, all of her actions, after some thought, Yang was able to justify.

Besides the bed and the desk, there wasn't a whole lot inside the room. A large holoboard for schematics was hanging from one wall, although it was off. The bed was unmade, but nothing of interest was there. The desk was a similar state, with a few papers spread over the surface but further inspection identified them as school work that Jane didn't bother to finish. She grinned a little, knowing the fifth member of RWBY disliked school work just about as much as her.

The one object that caught her interest was Jane's funny bracer. Made of a tan metal with a large black screen, it lacked typical inputs, instead relying on knobs and switches to interact. She had stopped wearing the device a while ago, instead opting to use a scroll due to it's larger capabilities. That said, it must have some importance, as there was a cable running from the back into what she could only assume was a hookup point for the communications system that ran throughout Beacon.

"Must have some sort of significance, it's the only thing of note here." Grabbing it, she disconnected the cable from the wall, wrapping it around the device. Quickly stuffing it into the bag, she checked the closet, the only thing of note being the clothing Ruby had gotten for Jane.

Shouldering the bag, she dashed out the room, heading for the courtyard. Personal effects collected, her job was done. Heading for the end of the hall, she decided to forgo the stairs, instead firing a shot from her gauntlet through the windows, followed by leaping through it.

It was the third floor, so a bit of a fall was expected. Thankfully, Cardin Winchester of all people was below, fighting off an Ursa. Landing on top of the thing, she sent both fists forward, her semblance augmenting her blows to rip through the Grimm.

Ignoring his startled cries, she leapt off the now dead creature, springing towards the familiar sounds of combat. On the way she blew through Grimm, her shots punching through bone plate and flesh, shotgun blasts echoing. It wasn't long until she arrived at the courtyard, a mass of students and staff fighting against the Grimm. From what she could tell most of her class was here, with enough of them actually having weapons.

"Weiss!" The white haired heiress spun, looking for the source of the call. Her light blue eyes alighted upon Yang. "Yang! You're ok!" she yelled exuberantly. A flick of her rapier and a white glyph took shape, sending an ice shard through an Ursa. The hunter in training dashed over to the blond, a tired smile on her face.

"Where's Blake?" Weiss paused, as if thinking. "We split up earlier, she went towards the dining hall looking for any more students!" The sounds of combat were doing their best to drown out their conversation, spaced between shotgun blasts and the whistling of a rapier as they fought Grimm.

"What about Ruby?" yelled Yang worriedly.

"I haven't seen her! She was up at the coliseum when this all started!" grunted Weiss, stabbing a boarbatusk through the face. With a squeal it died, smashing into the earth. A flick and her sword was out, casting another ice glyph.

Yang was silent, instead punching an Ursa in the face. The force of her semblance augmented fist mixed with the dust round propelled t back, smashing into one of it's brethren behind her. "I'm going for Blake!" was her reply. Not waiting for a response, Yang dashed towards the school dining hall. Spinning on her heel, she yelled black to the heiress.

"Try to find Ruby! I'm going for Blake!" Weiss nodded, huffing slightly. Yang was too far away to hear her curse the blond for being an idiot. Instead, Yang ran towards the dining hall.

Sprinting, Yang fired her bracers, ending Grimm at a distance with the explosive dust rounds. The dining hall was a fair distance away, separated by an open common area. Inside that common area, framed by trees and gardens. There were a few Grimm in the field, Atlesian mechs doing their best to fight them. Surprisingly, they proved effective, focusing fire to eliminate the few Beowolves attacking.

Seeing one of the mechs was about to be overwhelmed, she fired a shot, the round tearing an arm from the Beowolf. With that, the Grimm in the area were dead, the sounds of gunfire silent. Bending over to take a breath before she continued, she relaxed her aura, focussing it onto restoring her energy rather than protection.

 _CRACK!_

A shot echoed across the field.

A bullet from an Atlas mech is specifically designed to pierce armor. Utilizing a titanium jacketed lead round, it was one of the few bullets in circulations that utilized dust to go from subsonic to hypersonic. The rounds had proved effective at piercing Grimm hide, and in some cases actually cracking through the thicker and more bullet resistant bone plates.

Which is why Yang found it surprising when one of these shots flew through Yang, her lowered Aura doing nothing to protect her.

The shot passed through her shoulder as if it was paper, continuing onwards behind her. Her head snapped back, a scream tearing from her throat. Her lilac eyes flicked to red, anger clouding her vision. Everything was a blur. There was movement, her left hand fist impacted metal. The sound of popping electricity, of gunshots impacting on her Aura echoed around her with no discernable source. It was over in less than a minute.

Amid the destruction, several of the Atlas mechs were completely wrecked. Bent over, her breath was ragged, the soft dripping of blood somehow being louder than the distant sounds of combat. Her free hand moved to her shoulder, pressing against the jagged hole.

"Ah fuck," she cursed, her breath becoming more ragged. Somewhere in her mind, a scrap of field first aid came to mind. "Like a bandaid," she breathed, reaching behind. Her middle finger grazed an exit hole.

Relief flowed through her, happy that she wouldn't have to dig for the bullet. When she and Ruby had first started designing their weapons, their dad had made sure to drill into them everything relating to firearms, including emergency first aid.

Satisfied that there wasn't a bullet still in her shoulder, she flared her Aura, focussing it on the affected area. Within seconds, the blood stopped pouring from the wound. The flesh tickled and itched, physical signs that it was starting to knit itself back together. Ordinarily she would take an hour or two for it to heal enough to start fighting again, but she didn't have time to spare.

"BLAKE!" Her hoarse scream ripped across the field, even as she started moving towards the dining hall. Her wound screamed at her, protesting the motions of her right arm as she moved towards her objective. If her memory was correct, then it should be just around the corner.

Rounding said corner, her lilac eyes flicked around, looking for the familiar black hair and bow of her partner. "Blake!" she called, looking around. A knot of worry started to form in her gut. If she wasn't here, then where the hell did she go?

"Blake! We're evacuating! We've-"

A scream interrupted her. She spun around, identifying the source of the noise. Looking through the windows of the dining hall, her heart stopped.

Blake was lying on the ground, spread eagle. Her weapon was no where in sight. Above her stood a red haired man, clothed in a black jacket with red floral design. His face was hidden by an easily identifiable mask, marking him as a member of the White Fang. But that wasn't what she cared about.

He was holding a sword, completely crimson, glowing faintly, and it was stabbed through Blake's stomach.

Her blood boiled.

"GET AWAY FROM HER!" With her proclamation, there was light. There was anger. There was righteous fury. Her blood boiled. The pain in her shoulder was forgotten. Ruby was forgotten.

Her arms flicked behind her, firing a shot each. She flew forwards, fire streaming from her form, crimson eyes burning with hate. She saw his arrogant smirk as he sheathed his blade, dropping into a ready stance.

She brought her right fist to bear, ready to clock him across the face. Her vision tunneled, only seeing his face.

There was a flash of red.

Pain.

And then she knew nothing.

* * *

The air whistled through her hair, the steady roar of the rocket locker being the only sound she could hear. In the distance was the Atlas Dreadnaught, hovering gently in the air. Somewhere in her mind, she compared it to a Nevermore, hovering gently far above where anybody could reach it, waiting for the perfect time to strike.

Her scythe was hooked solidly onto the end of it, holding her steady. Mentally, she was reviewing an admittedly thrown together plan. She would have to land on the dreadnaught, find a way inside, and override the system so that the mechs would start working properly again. Getting additional fire support would also be key, as Grimm were getting into the city and the mechs alone wouldn't cut it.

Her train of thought was interrupted when her scroll vibrated. It was stronger than usual, prompting her to pull it out one handed. It was somewhat difficult, as if she let go of her scythe then she would very well go flying off the makeshift transport.

Pulling it out, her confusion mounted. Instead of the standard PIN, there was a single red dot bouncing side to side across the screen.

"Ruby Rose! You must connect this unit to the Dreadnaught local network. Your skills in computers are severely lacking."

An owlish expression was on her face. "Who are you!" she yelled, staring at the device incomprehensibly.

"My designation is Liberty Prime. An Artificial Combat Intelligence residing in Jane Freewrite's Personal Information Processor. Main contact with the terminal was lost so this backup program was enacted with instructions on how to proceed. Do you have any further questions?"

Ruby's mind was blank. An AI? Like Penny? This was Jane's doing? How did she get onto her Scroll?

"O-ok?" she responded, not sure what exactly to do. "Get to the ship, plug you in, got it!" Stowing the scroll, she checked her progress. Seeing she was almost there, Ruby readied herself. Right as the locker was about to hit, she fired her scythe, propelling herself enough to slow the impact down to something manageable.

Rolling with the momentum, she traveled a few feet, the locker slamming into the hull.

"Oh that could have been better," she mumbled, swaying slightly. Glancing to where the locker hit, she was surprised when there was in fact no locker, instead a clear entry hole into the ship itself. A part of her worried that a student's rocket locker was able to punch through the hull of a modern warship. Shaking her head, she threw those thoughts aside, instead using the hole to get in.

"Alright, to the bridge to the bridge to the bridge bridge bridge," she sang, dashing along the halls. Despite being a full service warship for the largest military in Remnant, the place was suspiciously quiet, there being no servicemen lying around.

It wasn't long until she arrived at a set of double doors, painted grey with the military logo printed onto the top. Checking around, she found a terminal on the wall, probably to get in. Reaching into her skirt, she pulled out the scroll. Again, the red dot bouncing from side to side was present.

"How do I get in?" she asked. The light stopped bouncing.

"Accessing local network. Configuring administration privileges. Resetting password. New password is 1234," was the efficient reply. Nodding, still confused as to the existence of a Penny-like AI residing on her scroll, Ruby entered the code on the panel.

"1, 2, 3, 4," she murmured, typing them in on the console.

 _WOOSH!_

The doors slid open slowly, the movement silent. A different part of Ruby admired the dedication to engineering these doors. They were silent enough that the click of the lock was louder than the motors themselves.

Quickly entering, she slapped the lock button again, the door closing shut behind her. Again, a small click followed, signalling the door was locked. Turning her attention to the room, she took in her surroundings.

The screens and holo-panels were deep red, with warning lights flashing all over. The room was abandoned, like the rest of the ship, and warning tones sounded from more than a few terminals. Scanning around, she found what looked like the captain's interface, upon which was a simple scroll, the screen dominated by a black chess piece.

"A Queen?" she mumbled. This wasn't making much sense. Where were the White Fang? Surely for a ship like this somebody had to be here to maintain control.

"Please insert the unit into the terminal." She jumped, the baritone of Liberty Prime startling her. She glanced between her scroll and the one in the terminal.

"But there's one already there," she replied, gesturing vaguely to it. With a start she noticed the back of her scroll heated up.

"Then remove the scroll and hold onto it. There is a chance it holds information that will be useful. Once I am uploaded retrieve your scroll and exit the aircraft." Ruby nodded, reaching for the scroll. With deft movements, she unplugged the scroll, inserting her own.

A red progress bar began to load on the screen, indicating the upload. The screens and terminals around her froze, before blacking out. Green text in command line format began to stream upwards at a dizzying pace. While she wasn't great at computers, she did know that anything using a command line interface on such a scale had to be incredibly capable. She wasn't sure if even Penny could do this.

 _10%_

Her thoughts stopped, the lifeless face of Penny coming to the forefront of her mind. She bit back a sob, emotions swirling.

"You're an AI, right?" she asked, leaning heavily against a desk. Liberty took some time to respond.

 _25%_

"I am. I presume you wish to know the fate of the unit known as Penny?" She nodded. Apparently Liberty had enough access to the cameras to see this, as he continued.

 _42%_

"While the mechanics of Aura integration into an Artificial unit are unknown to myself, the machine code behind it appear to be the same. With the limited knowledge stored on this vessel in regards to the P.E.N.N.Y. project, it should be possible to restore her using a recent data backup from approximately 3 days ago."

 _67%_

"That's, good I guess," replied the young huntress. Truthfully Ruby was glad for at least the hope that her friend might be ok.

"Well well well, no wonder you weren't on the roof, you snuck inside!" Her head snapped upwards, seeing where the voice came from.

Roman Torchwick stood there, cane at the ready, aiming directly at her. Ruby paled, realizing that the door had been quiet enough that she didn't hear. Rather than congratulate the designer, she was now cursing him.

"What, you thought removing the scroll would end this virus? It's in the system Red, although I must say, you appear to have crashed the system!" His jovial tone didn't betray the annoyed look on his face.

 _82%_

Her eyes flicked over to behind him. He seemed to be alone, his accomplice Neo nowhere to be found. Behind him, the door was still open. Apparently he didn't believe in closing doors after him. Glancing to her side, she saw a progress bar pop up just behind him, detailing the progress for her alone.

 _94%_

"Sadly, this is end of the line Red! You and your goody two-shoe friends will never make it out alive from this city!" Noticing her confused face, he smiled. "Oh, you didn't know!" he asked, fake shock etched across his face.

"Well," he continued, bowing slightly. "I suppose I could let you know what's going to happen." He laughed, gesturing out the window. "You see that massive Grimm just floating out there, dropping new ones? That was never quite the plan, at least, that I was aware." He was monologuing, building up to something. Whatever he said could be useful. She prayed that Liberty actually slowed down.

 _97%_

"The actual plan is this Red, we're going to crack Vale open like an egg, let the Grimm run rampant throughout the streets. It'll be gory and of course some will die, but in the end, the White Fang get a city and public approval! After all, they will come and save the day." He laughed, as if the entire thing was funny.

"You're talking about killing thousands!" She couldn't comprehend this. This was above petty thievery, above crime. This was – insane.

"Nine hundred thousand, give or take specifically," he replied, a smirk on his face.

 _100% - RUN!_

Ruby didn't hesitate. Using her semblance, she grabbed the scroll, before firing her scythe, propelling herself through the door. A few consecutive shots and she was outside, springing along the hull of the airship. She stumbled slightly when the ship moved, taking the surface out from underneath her. Ignoring it, she kept running, before throwing herself off the edge of the ship, throwing herself towards the earth.

* * *

Blinding pain issued forth from her ankle. Of all the places for a damn arrow to pierce, it had to be the most debilitating place of all. She tried to stand, but couldn't put any pressure on it, instead crying out and stumbling back down.

The light clicking of heels echoed, tracing itself around from behind her, before stopping in front of her.

"It's unfortunate you were promised a power that was never truly yours," spoke the voice. Pyrrha bit her lip, not willing to give Cinder any satisfaction. She knew that by coming up here, that by fighting what Ozpin considered a severe threat, that she probably wouldn't make it out alive. She could help but curse herself, her dreams of dying selflessly and in combat seeming so naïve now. She should have known, you don't die honourably, you just die.

"But take comfort in knowing I will use it in ways you could never have imagined," she continued. Reaching down, an unfamiliar hand grabbed Pyrrha's chin, pointing her head up. Her green eyes stared into Cinder's own dark amber, anger, hate, and loathing all swirling for dominance. Conversely, Cinder looked pleased, like a cat that just got a bowl of milk.

Pushing herself from Cinder's hand, she looked her dead in the eye, flicking some hair from her eyes with a head jerk. A conversation with Jaune came to mind. For some reason, she felt she had to ask a question.

"Do you believe in destiny?" Cinder frowned slightly, head tilting. Apparently she didn't expect that, although, Cinder didn't seem the type to let this happen often.

"Yes." The reply was said with conviction, as if that very truth had been tested in the fires of faith. Despite the fact that she was about to die, Pyrrha didn't hate Cinder. Not in this final moment. Perhaps it was because, on death's doorstep, she had found somebody like minded? Or perhaps she understood that they were both fighting for something, and both thought it right?

Her attention was taken away when she noticed Cinder stand up, conjuring her bow into existence. If it were any other day she would marvel at it, wondering how exactly she did that.

Her green eyes glanced behind Cinder, hoping to catch the night sky one last time.

"Right on time, huh?" she chuckled, wondering just how well Cinder had planned this, that a bullhead was on it's way right as she was about to wrap up.

"What?" At this, both women looked at each other with confused glances.

"Your bullhead, coming to pick you up once you're done?" asked the invincible girl. "If you're going to kill me at least answer my question," she bit. Cinder turned.

At once, Pyrrha knew something was wrong. Cinder's form tensed, her right foot placed slightly ahead. Where before she had been slow and languid, now she was ramrod straight.

"Interruptions always getting in the way," mumbled the Fall Maiden. Readying her bow, she fired a shot towards the incoming bullhead. The arrow flew straight and true, aiming straight for where the pilot's seat should be. It impacted cleanly, spearing the glossy pane, impacting what had to be the pilot.

Despite the expectations, the ship did not waver, nor did it crash. Instead, it kept on coming. Frowning, Cinder pulled another arrow into existence, aiming solidly at one of the engine intakes. If she couldn't kill the pilot, then she would crash the stupid thing. Right as she went to release, several things happened.

Something struck her in the back, throwing her off balance. The shot flew wide, impacting a nearby Grimm. The bullhead began a final approach, gearing up to deposit whomever or whatever was inside. From the edge of the now destroyed tower, Ruby jumped up, readying to save her friend. And finally, a piercing pain enveloped Cinder's side.

"You BITCH!" Creating another arrow, and ignoring the sword impaled through her side, she spun around, slamming the arrow into Pyrrha's back with her hand. The warrior screamed in pain, already crippled from the ankle shot, went down.

"Pyrrha!" screamed the young scythe wielder, unfolding her weapon. Cinder spun, wrenching the weapon from her side. A press of a now flaming hand and she cauterized the wound, much to her displeasure. It would scar, horribly, but she didn't run the risk of bleeding out now.

"You think you can just stop me?" she yelled, splitting her bow into two daggers. "I've worked too hard for this moment! So many months of planning for this! I won't allow two _girls_ to ruin everything!"

The bullhead touched down.

Remembering her lesson, Cinder backed up, making sure nobody was behind her. To her right lay the incapacitated huntress and Ruby, the brunette having pulled her away from Cinder. To her left was the bullhead, doors closed.

The doors clicked, and a hydraulic hiss escaped, the side door sliding towards the rear.

 _Cold._

That was the first thing she felt. Ever since gaining the fall maiden powers, Cinder had never been cold, it's constant warmth making sure she was never so much as chilly. Even holding ice didn't phase her. Almost doubly so since she grabbed the other half of the powers from Amber below the school.

But this, the very air became cold, uncomfortably so, to the point that she began to shiver. In her peripheral vision, she noticed it wasn't restricted to herself, both the passed out Pyrrha and Ruby noticed the dip in temperature.

And then the figure stepped out.

Steel capped boots, heavy armor, a thick, armored storm coat, the figure was familiar to her. Jane Freewrite, the anomaly in her plans, the one who came out of completely nowhere and threatened to ruin everything. But to say this was the same person as in the tournament would be akin to comparing apples to oranges.

This Jane Freewrite was very different. A black fire seemed to roll up her form, hoarfrost forming on the metal sections of her armor. Her helmet was almost coated in the stuff, the frost somehow forming in a facsimile of a grinning skull. The lenses of her helmet were glowing brightly, far more than they were supposed to. But most of all, the one fact that set her apart from before, was how if she looked away, Jane's form flickered, as if it wasn't quite there.

This may be wearing her armor, and using her sword, but this was not the Jane Freewrite she was familiar with.

"Jane?" Ruby's voice broke her concentration. 'Jane' turned her head, glancing towards Cinder. All at once, she felt like something had stepped on her grave.

" _ **Your soul,**_ " it spoke. It's voice was there, clearly Jane's, and yet, there was something different. An otherworldly echo, as if some creature from the darkest pits of the unknown lands had copied her voice and was using it.

" _ **It is bright, like a star,**_ " she continued. Cinder took a step back, fear taking hold of her.

" _ **We will enjoy taking it from you.**_ "

* * *

 **I do not own RWBY or Fallout 3. All works belong to their respective creators.**

 **A bit long since the last update, but honestly, I had trouble pumping out this chapter. I had some idea of what I wanted, but diverging a little required some creativity. Hopefully the updates will be back to a once a week or so format.**

 **Originally the chapter was going to start just shortly before events went down, but this felt easier to work with. So yeh.**

 **Also, I asked back in chapter 8 about somebody possibly doing a commission for me as a cover? I never got a response for that, just wondering if anyone is interested.**


	11. Finding Answers

_Her head was heavy. The comfort of her helmet wasn't there, it's weight missing. Her arms were tied, wrapped behind her back and lashed with rope. Her legs felt a similar sensation, bound up to her knees in lengths of rope._

 _Her face was pressed into the soft loamy earth, the moist ground kick starting her brain. She tried to crack an eye open, hoping to see where she was._

 _Blinding light obscured her vision, scarring her retina and bringing a tear to her eye. Her lid snapped shut, a lance of pain going straight into her skull. Instead, she focused, listening for anything that might give away her situation._

 _A torch crackled in the distance, probably the source of light. Water dripped from somewhere, hitting a small pool of water. At the very edge of her hearing she could hear voices, but it was too far away for her to make out any details._

 _An experimental tug on her bindings left her cursing internally. She wouldn't be able to break them through sheer force. Flexing her legs, she discovered it to be the same situation. Concentrating, she tried to remember how she got here._

 _She remembered combat. But it was unlike what she was familiar with. Instead of ranged combat, fighting it out one bullet at a time with swift movements and careful aim. Instead, it was a sort of madness, utilizing her sword far more than she was used to. Raiders, frothing at the mouth and smelling of rot rushed her, the electric bite of her sword having little effect._

 _There was an impact, something smashed into the back of her helmet, stunning her. A second blow, her ribs creaking with protest. A sharp pain in her thigh, what felt like a bone knife stabbing through the pant leg. Her vision blacked out when something smashed against the left side of her face, rendering her unconscious._

 _Point Lookout. Yes, the Tribals, she was on her way to investigate them. When they wouldn't open the gate, she demanded entry. She was looking for someone, but she couldn't remember who._

" _You are awake."_

 _The voice came from behind her. With her eyes closed, she was unable to determine the owner of the voice. It was deeper and somewhat gravely, but there was no menace in the tone. She didn't hear the figure walk in, so he must have been sitting there while she was out._

" _Now that you are awake, we may begin the ritual." Her brow furrowed, mind sluggishly trying to figure out what the figure behind her was talking about. Her attention was diverted when a metal screeching sound tore through the air, her body flinching involuntarily at the noise. Her head was still in pain, to the point that she might have a concussion._

" _Bring her to the meeting site. It is time." Footsteps echoed, the dirt vibrating softly with the steps of what she figured was two distinct people. Immediately hands grabbed her arms, lifting her up. She bit back a cry of pain, her headache killing her and the awkward position of her arms straining the joints._

 _They began to drag her, boots dragging uselessly into the earth. She could tell her weapons were gone, probably removed during her incapacitation. Where they went were a mystery, one that she would hopefully be able to solve._

 _At some point, a bag was tied over her head, hiding enough light to open her eyes. Despite her raging headache, the filter helped adjust her eyes to the light. Cool air brushed against exposed skin, while the two figures continued to take her somewhere. They were no longer inside, instead somewhere near the swamps, if the variety of animal life echoing around her was any indication. Through the gaps in the fibres of the bag, she could see torches in the distance, small pinpricks of orange light flickering._

 _Eventually they dropped her, her form thudding against the earth. It was spongier here, reinforcing her hunch that they were near the swamps. Moisture soaked through the bag, providing a blissful relief to her aching head._

" _We have the one you ask for. The enlightened one wishes you good tidings." The voice echoed across the land, coming from her left. Sluggishly, her mind tried to think about what was happening._

 _They were near the swamps. Of the groups she was familiar with, it was mostly inhabited by mutated wildlife. Marshy swamps made up the depths, with tall trees blocking any light from above. Not that the constant overcast let much in anyways._

 _Her ears twitched, hearing approaching footsteps. Unlike the lighter steps of the tribals that dragged her hear, these one were a mix. Large, plodding steps, lighter swift steps; she guessed it was a group of about 8 or so. Her mind tried to formulate who this group might be._

" _Leave, outsider!" Her blood chilled._

 _Swamp people._

 _The few times she had run into this group, they had proved something of a challenge. Attacking in groups, they diversified between long range and melee. But that wasn't what worried her. No, it was the rampant mutations, the rotting bodies that were a few steps away from Ghouls, the absolute madness and degradation of mental faculties that identified these creatures._

 _The two tribals next to her left, one dropping a heavy sack of some sorts. Their footsteps faded away, leaving only silence. "Grab the woman." Two of the figures walked towards her, torches illuminating the area. An unseen hand grabbed her shoulder, pressing her flat against the earth. Another grabbed her arms, lifting them from her back slightly, enough for a long object to be shoved under. A second hand grabbed her legs, poking the object through the bindings on her legs._

 _What was obviously a pole was then lifted up, hoisting her off of the earth. The footsteps were uneven, aggravating her headache. "Where- are we going?" Her throat was dry, the question coming out as little more than a whisper. Regardless, it was met with a heavy strike from what felt like a hunting rifle in her ribs, fresh pain exploding._

 _Dark spots swam across her vision again, her head dropping. Whatever relief time had wrought on her headache was now gone, her eyes clenched in pain._

 _The constant swaying motion ruined her sense of time, the thumping of her head lulling her into a daze. It could have been minutes; it could have been hours. The only thing she was sure of was the torches light stretched further across the ground._

 _The environment changed, the cool air rank with the foul odour of decay being replaced with the wood smoke of burning torches. She figured she was in a cave of sorts, possibly going below ground, given the angle of how she was being carried._

 _It wasn't too much later that she was thrown to the ground. The pole threaded through her arms and legs was removed, allowing her some freedom of movement. Multiple hands grabbed her, lifting her back up. The world shifted suddenly, her body landing heavily on an angled slab of rock._

 _With a grasp and a quick tug, the bag over her head was removed, the movement of air bringing cooler air to her mouth. She breathed deeply, the humid air from her lungs having made breathing harder than it should have been._

 _Cold water was thrown at her face, the liquid being sucked into her lungs during her inhale. Her breath turned into violent hacking, her diaphragm flexing wildly, trying to expel the water from her lungs. More hands grabbed her, pulling her head back and pressing it against the rock. Attempting to open her eyes, the light wasn't as bad as before, allowing her to see her surroundings._

 _It was a cave, half of it clearly dug out using crude tools. There were over a hundred of the swamp people, some milling around fires, others watching. She seemed to be placed upon a pedestal of sorts, about 10 feet higher than the ground level. Around her were 5 of the swamp people, 4 of them holding her back against this slab. The fifth one was standing in front of her. Her eyed widened._

 _It was a woman, although the term could be used loosely. Generations of inbreeding and toxic air had stunted her features, giving her a fairly androgenise look when compared to the males. That said, the noticeable chest area and narrowed fingers gave it away. In her hands she carried two small buckets, wooden sticks poking out the top._

 _As she approached, the swamp people in the distance began to chant slowly. Her thumping head was unable to deceiver the words, but the tone of it unsettling her. The woman approached, climbing slightly onto Jane._

" _Hey now," she laughed nervously, eyes flicking back and forth. "If you want that, shouldn't we go somewhere private?" The swamp girl didn't respond, instead stopping around her waist. Lifting one bucket, she grabbed the handle, pulling forth a brush. Jane's crimson eyes adopted a confused look, seeing the brush was coated in a white paint like substance._

 _Two hands grasped either side of her head, holding it still. The girl leaned forward, pressing the brush against Jane's head. From there, she began to trace it over her face. The cool substance was incredibly thick, sticking to her face and refusing to run even a little. The woman kept at it, coating her entire face. She paused only to switch brushes, apparently moving from the white to a black paint, adding what must have been details._

 _The woman stopped, lifting the brush a final time. The brownish green eyes, common to the swamp people, appraised their work, a single nod being the only indication of her satisfaction. The swamp girl removed herself, bringing the buckets with her, heading outside of Jane's view._

 _Another of the swamp people entered, but he was much different. His form was all the more decayed, clearly some kind of ghoul, but the unmistakable attributes of a swamp person were still there. Dressed in robes rather than faded shirts and denim jeans, he carried an air of importance._

 _In his hands was a cloth wrapped object, but the way he held it sparked warning alarms in Jane's head. He stepped towards her, stopping just at her feet. Gently, and almost reverently, he started to take the cloth off the object. Her crimson eyes flicked over, seeing the swampfolk were no longer mingling, instead there were pressed against each other, desiring to be as close to her as possible without actually coming any closer than 10 or so feet away. The final layer of cloth came off the object._

 _It was a book._

 _Copper toned leather, iron hinges, old, worn paper sticking out at the edges slightly. What really made it different was the giant wound on the front cover. And a wound it really was._

 _Rather than the cardboard and paper making up the inside, this wound was red, pulsating, and weeping a black fluid. It looked angry, infected, as if the book itself was suffering. It was wholly unnatural, and it scared her._

 _The man reverently opened the book, looking Jane in her crimson eyes directly._

" _Ug-Qualtoth is returned." He turned, eyeing the masses below. "And we have brought him the One"_

 _And then he read._

* * *

Eyes flicked open, crimson irises staring straight ahead.

Wood. Honey colored, boards interlocking with a professional level of craftsmanship. An off white trim round around the ceiling, darker colored wood paneling running the length of the walls.

Her eyes flicked elsewhere, checking her surroundings. A window to her right, warm sunlight peering through a green forest. She could see the sun, it hanging in the distance. Late afternoon possibly, or morning. She couldn't tell what direction was north.

Personal affects were littered around the room, primarily yellow themed. A few articles were immediately familiar, reminding her of Yang, the blond haired brawler. Tiredly, she tilted her head, glancing around.

And then her mind clicked.

 _No weapons, no armor, strange place. I need to recon the area._

Silently, she exited the bed, muscles groaning with protest. She must have been out for a while, the only other time she felt like this was after the purifier. Glancing around the room, she didn't see anything of note that she could use.

Checking herself, she noticed her attire.

"Seriously?"

Rather than her usual clothing, or even her under garments, somebody had clothed her in what must have been a spare set of pajamas. Ordinarily she didn't wear them, considering most garments like this were subjected to two hundred years of decay, but this was entirely different.

Stepping lightly towards the door, her fist tightened. Taking a deep breath, she twisted the knob silently, opening the door slowly. The general theme of the house continued, wood paneling and soft carpet creating a homey, safe appearance. She opened the door a little wider.

 _CREAK!_

She froze, trying to figure out if anyone heard the door. She strained her ears, trying to hear anything out of the norm. A minute passed, nothing happening. She released a breath she wasn't aware she was holding.

 _Gotta find a weapon, preferably my stuff._

She crept out into the hall, glancing back and forth. Slowly closing the door, it closed with a click. Her feet padded softly, treading down the hall, the carpet muffling almost all of the noise. Pressing herself against the wall, she peaked around the corner. Satisfied, she ignored the rest of the hall, instead picking the stairs and descending onto what must have been the main floor.

The layout of the house seemed to mimic a classic American house, with the living area downstairs, while bedrooms were located above. Ahead was what she assumed to be the front door, while to her right was a living room. Behind the stairs, from what she could tell, was the kitchen area, possibly a dining room.

 _Living room first._

Turning the corner, she glanced around. A row of photos atop a fire place, some well worn furniture, a tv set. It was all very normal. Quickly stepping forward, she proceeded to inspect the photos. Her eyes widened, seeing the people in the photos.

Yang was easy enough to spot, her long yellow hair and wide grin identifying herself even at what must have been a young age. Ruby stood next to her, her red cloak still present. Jane idly wondered how long the girl had owned the cloak. The other two people in the photos were slightly different.

One was taller, blond short hair. He had the physic of a boxer, heavily muscled and wide shoulders. He sported a similar grin as the younger Yang, with a similar preference for clothing, exposing his thickly muscled arms. The woman next to her however, was fairly different.

Very shy, even in the photo, she wore a white cloak, the hood drawn up and over, hiding her slightly. This one wrapped around her shoulders as well, effectively creating a barrier to hide herself. Despite this, she sported a small smile, silver eyes looking at the camera.

"So you're awake?"

Jane spun on her foot, fists readied. Standing there in the hall was the man from the photo, although he was quite different. An armor plate sat on his shoulder, while his face definitely looked older. A pair of sturdy bracers sat on his arms, small metal partitions hinting at a duel functionality. Heavy boots, a cautious stance. Yes, he was a fighter.

"Who are you?" Her question was short, precise, to the point. She already had a clue, but it was worth asking.

"We haven't met yet. I'm Ruby and Yang's father. I understand you're Jane Freewrite, the fifth member of the team?" At her nod, he smiled, striding forward, right hand forward and open.

"I'm Taiyang. Nice to meet you," he greeted, seemingly ignoring her readied stance. Finding no falsehood in his eyes, Jane relaxed, meeting his fist. It wasn't too strong, but certainly a firm grasp. She could respect that.

"There wasn't exactly a place to put you after the incident, so I had you brought to our home. Ruby and Yang are here, still upstairs." His voice tapered off at the mention of his daughters, blue eyes drifting slightly. Jane picked up on that, speaking.

"How are they? I'm assuming they didn't get out unscathed?" He nodded, but didn't answer. Jane realized just how silly they must look, standing in the middle of the living room in total silence.

"So get me up to speed here, what exactly happened?" questioned Jane, picking a seat. Running a hand through her hair, Jane brought a few errant strands out of her vision. Taiyang took a seat opposite, resting quite comfortably on a worn leather chair.

"We're not sure ourselves actually. Everything was fine until communications went down. Most of what we know has been word of mouth, but it's unsettling." At her questioning gaze, he paused.

"You look older than the legal limit, and I'm going to need a drink before I continue. You want anything?" Jane nodded. "Anything strong will do." He nodded, disappearing into the kitchen. Within moments he returned with two tumblers and a bottle of amber liquid. Pouring out two drinks, he handed one to her before sitting back down.

"The White Fang are being blamed. We know they somehow loaded hundreds of Grimm into transports and moved them into Beacon and the coliseum. Several dozen were released into the city, but that wasn't the big issue." He took a sip, bracing himself.

"At the same time, the Atlesian military went nuts, their automated units turning on the civilians and hunters, shooting anything that moved. Two of the three dreadnaughts in the sky were shot down, crashing in the city. One of them actually struck a portion of the south wall, opening a hole."

"That would explain where all the Grimm were coming from," remarked Jane, remembering all of the black furred creatures she disposed of.

"Yeh, it was terrible. It was shortly after that," he steeled himself, drinking again. "A new Grimm showed up. Broke out of Mt. Glenn. Some kind of dragon. It kept dropping black fluid, turning into Grimm when they hit the ground. The White Fang, who had been active, started retreating. Nobody is sure if they predicted that, but it wasn't pretty."

Another sip. He grabbed the bottle topping it off. With a wordless gesture, Jane held her glass out, accepting a top up. The liquor here was much better, having a smoothness that anything in DC couldn't compare too. The lack of particulate matter inside was also a huge bonus.

"Most of what happened after that doesn't make much sense, but Qrow told me himself some of this, and I trust him. Right when things started to look hopeless, the mechs changed drastically." He took a sip. "I'm not talking just targeting, they apparently changed their entire combat system. Qrow told me they formed 3 and 4 man fire teams, rapidly switching targets, absolutely destroying the Grimm. They managed to seal the gap in the wall, keeping the hole plugged. Apparently the general himself was interested. The level of skill the mechs showed is supposed to be decades ahead of what's possible."

Another sip.

"The dragon that was flying around was next. It had taken the top off Beacon Tower, and was flying back to land on it apparently." He leaned forward, looking at her dead in the eye. "Then a bullhead lands at the top where a battle was happening, and the dragon veers the other direction, flying away. I'm not sure why, but we're all glad that the remaining dreadnaught open fired, utilizing the main gun to clip it's wing." He laughed, draining his glass. Setting it to the side, he didn't refill it.

"When it hit the ground, the airship unloaded, firing whatever it had onto the Grimm. From what I understand the area is about a half kilometer lower than it should be. And then the weirdest part." He leaned back, resting his arms on the chair, but never looking away.

"A bright flash lit up the top of the tower. Apparently it was so blinding Qrow swears he still sees spots. When he got up there, he found you and Ruby passed out. That was almost a week ago."

Jane nodded, finishing her drink, enjoying the slight burn down her throat. It occurred to her she hadn't had alcohol since she arrived here. That said, she was never a big drinker anyways, it just clouded her judgement in the long run.

"I don't actually know what happened," started Jane. "I was in the commercial district when the attack happened. Grabbed a bullhead and was heading for the tower. I had a computer program that could use the hardline from Ozpin's office to the CCTS tower to restart the communications system." She paused, a free hand unconsciously straying to her stomach.

"There was a flash of pain, and then I woke up here." She paused, gears turning inside her head. "Ruby was on top of that tower. She might know what exactly happened," she continued, closing her eyes. Drinking might not have been the best idea on an empty stomach, especially since she was apparently starved for food for the past week. The world seemed to be swaying slightly, a soft heat warming her face slightly.

Taiyang was silent, the two of them left with their thoughts. Finally, it was Taiyang that spoke, almost 10 minutes later. "Ruby hasn't woken up. We're not sure what happened, but it looks like aura exhaustion. Yang is- awake." Jane perked her ears at his tone. Clearly something was up. Her red eyes glanced down, eying her current dress.

"I don't suppose there are some other clothes I can wear?" The man nodded. "The only thing we've got is the armor you were wearing and some stuff I guessed your sizes on." He stood up, heading into the other room. Within a minute he came back, a larger duffel bag in hand. Her helmet was in the other, hanging loosely from his fingers.

"I cleaned it and repaired it as best as possible." He placed it in front of her, releasing the helmet quickly. "Not sure why but it's constantly cold," he remarked, clenching his fist, as if trying to shake the cold away. Jane frowned, curious. Reaching over, she grabbed the helmet, holding it in front of her. Indeed, the metal portions were quite cold, the fabric sections slightly stiff.

Her interest peaked when frost started to form over the mask from her fingers, spreading slowly. Quickly putting the mask on the duffel bag, Jane grabbed the bag, standing up. Pointing a finger upstairs, Taiyang nodded. "Bathroom is upstairs, down the right from where you were sleeping." Jane nodded, giving him a mock salute.

* * *

Jane padded her coat, checking for something. Her knife was there, still stashed in the front. An extra magazine for a pistol that was now missing, so that was useless. A few shell casings for her now missing MG32 that had probably fallen into her pocket.

"Where's my scroll?" she mumbled, padding the pockets again. "No, I guess it isn't here," she mumbled. She glanced at the duffel bag again. Checking it, she couldn't find her scroll. A thought flitted across her mind.

"Where's the pipboy?" Again, she checked all over, not seeing it. Pinching the bridge of her nose, she cursed. "God fucking dammit, it's probably still plugged into the wall at Beacon. And if comms are still down across the board, then she likely couldn't connect to the pipboy using a regular scroll.

Glancing at herself in the mirror, she sighed distastefully. Apparently Taiyang didn't take into account her armor. Brown t-shirt, blue denim jeans. She would much prefer something with a collar. Sighing, she realized she would need to get back to Beacon for her pipboy. It would kill two bird with one stone however, she could hopefully get communications back up.

Grabbing the bag, she opened the door to the bathroom, running a hand through her hair. Already she was running through plans in her head, strategies, ideas. Stepping into the hallway, she paused, a question forming.

Quickly walking back towards Taiyang, she voiced her question, a bit of urgency in her voice. "You mentioned the dreadnought took out the dragon, leveling the area. What happened to it after? And the mechs?" Taiyang paused, thinking.

"I'm not actually sure. Qrow might know some more about what happened. He should be by in a few days hopefully." Jane nodded, deflating slightly. She had a hunch about what had happened, but it wouldn't do to spread her ideas. After all, if what she suspected was true, it would be hugely beneficial.

Stepping back upstairs, she tossed the bag into her temporary room. Heading down the hall, she stopped at another door. This one must be where Yang and Ruby were. Pausing momentarily, she opened the door. Might as well check on Yang, see just how bad things were up at Beacon.

Stepping in, she stopped, viewing the interior. Two beds, soft carpeting, darker wood paneling. And shelves and shelves full of model Grimm. It was certainly different. Considering they were supposed to be the enemies of man, the darkness that wars against the light, there was a certain amount of marketing that went into the enemies of man.

Checking the occupants, she frowned. Ruby was still out, lying peacefully in her bed, a vase of flowers next to the bed. Yang however, was different.

She had a forlorn look on her face, a familiar thousand-yard stare that she had seen in the eyes of many wastelanders. Her once golden hair was dulled, matted down slightly. Bags beneath her eyes, the entire visage painted a picture of a person who had been broken. Glancing down, she noticed what the issue was.

"Well, that sucks," she remarked, stepping in. Yang turned her head, looking at her. She was disappointed, there wasn't even a rise from the brawler. This was going to be a problem.

"So you woke up?" Jane nodded, pulling up a chair. She kicked her boots up, resting them on the edge of the bed. "Yeh, about an hour ago." Neither spoke, Yang proceeding to just look at the wall, while Jane looked hard at her.

Her right arm ended just below the elbow, a slight diagonal edge on the cut. The bandages appeared to be fresh, although with her aura she wasn't bleeding anymore. In addition, there were more wrapped around her shoulder, indicative of some kind of bullet wound. Apparently the mechs got to her.

"So what happened exactly?" questioned Jane. Yang didn't respond, instead choosing to sit there, her lilac eyes staring into the distance. Jane frowned, waiting some kind of a response. Minutes passed, neither speaking. Jane clicked her tongue.

"Alright, I get it, you've been cut down a peg. Your previous attitude got you into this mess, didn't it? Probably charged head on, flames everywhere?" Yang narrowed her eyes, glancing at Jane. "And now what, you'll just sit here, moping?"

Yang was silent, but her eyes were now looking at Jane. Inwardly, she smiled, seeing Yang get fired up, even a little. She noticed her remaining hand was twitching slightly, as if wanting to clench but not having the willpower to do so.

Jane glanced over towards Ruby, seeing her sleeping form. A week and she was still out, whatever happened at the top of the tower only the young brunette could answer. Rubbing the back of her head, she checked for any wounds or scars, wondering if she had been struck in the head.

"Really though, what are you going to do now? You can't just sit here, where's the Xiao Long fighting spirit?" she chuckled, kicking her feet off the bed, quickly getting to her feet. "You can't just sit there till the end of your days, dreaming whimsically of better times," she laughed, pacing. "Why, that would make you little better than a corpse, just dead weight taking up space," she continued. In a flash she withdrew her knife, tracing imaginary shapes with the blade, in full view of Yang. She smirked, seeing the uncertainty in Yang's posture.

"Now, should you wish to stay there until the end of your days, moping and whining and generally taking up space and being a draw on society, it makes you little better than a corpse. I of course would just accelerate the process." Jabbing the knife forward, she looked at Yang down the length of the blade. While the distance of the room separated them, it felt like they were inches apart.

"No point in delaying the inevitable," sighed Jane, shrugging her shoulders. "I'm sure Ruby would be sad for a while, but at least she would remember you as the young, vibrant soul that you are rather than this desiccated husk you seem intent on becoming. Your father would understand; he knows what I'm talking about. No need for suffering." She walked slowly forward, doing imaginary cuts.

"If I wanted to be quick about it, a jab at the temple would cut the brain process right away. The body would live for a few more minutes, but you wouldn't be aware. I could just cut the femoral artery, take you about 4 minutes to bleed out. It would make for a pretty corpse though."

Yang's eyes widened, fear overtaking her previously apathetic mood. She had always known Jane wasn't exactly nicest person, hearing her so calmly speak about killing her was unsettling. What terrified her was the possibility that she wasn't faking it, that Jane was actually willing to kill her.

"That said," she started, stashing the knife in her coat, a warmer smile overtaking her face. "It's only been a week or so, and it is a bit of a traumatic loss you've encountered. A bit of grieving is certainly ok. Just don't get too caught up in your cycle of self depreciation." She smiled, heading for the door.

"I'll be back later; we can chat when you're feeling better." The door closed, a soft click as it shut. Yang was left staring at the door, her breathing deep, adrenaline in her system and fist clenching her bed sheets.

* * *

"Well, this is it, the machine shop. It's nothing special, the Beacon facilities probably outdoing us. But if you're making stuff, it'll do. Your sword is in there. Bit of a house rule, no weapons in the house." Jane nodded, opening the door. It was admittedly low key compared to the previous facilities, but an inspection of the equipment satisfied her.

"I don't know how long I'll be here. Once I've made some weapons, I've got to get to Beacon and get communications back on." Taiyang nodded.

"I haven't said it yet, but I want to thank you," he started, facing Jane. At her confused look, he continued. "You helped out at the Breach. I'm not sure what would have happened, but when Ruby wrote home about a literal specter of death popping out of nowhere and rescuing her from the White Fang." Jane smirked, imagining what the letter might have looked like.

"Always glad to be a helping hand," she started. "I might have problems, but I've got a soft spot for kids." The older man nodded, holding out a hand. Jane took it, giving a firm handshake. She liked him. Clearly a family man.

"You should check on Yang. I spoke with her briefly, but she could use a bit of a pep talk." Patting him on the shoulder, Jane stepped into the workshop.

"Alright!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands, a viscous gleam in her eye. "No schematics, no aid, just pure intellect. Time to design a weapon!" Going over to a more traditional chalkboard, she picked up a white stick. Pressing it against her chin, her eyes widened thoughtfully.

"Now here's the real question, what should I do this time?" she voiced aloud.

The pistol she had been using, while effective, wasn't the best option in it's current form. The subsonic munition was annoying at the best of times, her previous 2 years of experience working with hypersonic made her aim sloppy when tracking a moving target. The rounds themselves worked ok, but she saw immediate issues with trying to get something that large to go hypersonic in her hand.

Writing down some ideas, she pulled up a second chalkboard, grateful that the workshop had it. Her heavy gun would need some work as well. Overall the WWII era MG32 worked fine, the high fire rate chewing through enemies quickly. The shorter barrel she had applied worked wonders for her mobility, but it certainly reduced its capability in long range encounters. Ideally she would like for it to be able to switch between a close range and a long range option, but modern gun mechanics didn't allow for weapons to just switch like that.

Her eyes glanced over to a model of Ruby's weapon hung on the wall.

She felt like cursing.

"Clearly my worlds and this worlds version of modern gun mechanics are slightly different, so sayeth the unfolding sniper rifle/scythe combo." Wiping away part of the sketch on the board, Jane walked over to a pile of books, finding one on the concept of mechashifting. Parsing through the pages, she smiled, finding exactly what she would need.

Long had since the people of Remnant devised the sciences to create multi form weapons. From swords with shield/sheath combos to spear/batons, they created an advantage to fight Grimm one on one, providing ranged and close up options, allowing for almost limitless combat applications with proper training.

With the introduction of firearms almost 100 years ago, the technology rapidly changed, allowing even more combat applications. Parsing through the book, she grinned. What she thought must have been extraordinary advances in technology actually were simple applications of physics.

Oh, an a few advances in metallurgy that surprised even herself.

Thumbing the pages, she flipped between reading the information in the older book, and modifying the chalk sketches on the boards. She quickly lost track of time, stopping only to shed her coat and drape it over the chair. Her attention was arrested when the door to the shed opened.

Turning to look at the new occupant, she grinned. "Yang, I see you're up and moving. Feeling better?" The blond grunted an affirmation, shuffling slowly. Clearly a week of bed rest had weakened the huntress in training.

"Not really. What are you doing?" Jane observed the girl, slowly compiling her response. She noticed how she was now overusing her left hand, feeling out objects while keeping an eye on her right side. Most likely to compensate for her missing appendage. It would work for a while, but she would need to break the habit before it became entrenched.

"Gotta rebuild my weapons. They're lost somewhere in Beacon, probably broken or stolen. Figured I should rearm myself as soon as possible. It's not quite what I was using before, but the workshop here should suffice." Yang nodded, taking a seat on the chair. Jane continued, focusing her attention.

There was a period of silence, broken when Yang spoke.

"Why aren't you using your scroll? Doesn't that have all your weapon stuff in there?" Jane laughed, her attention not straying. "Communications are down. My scroll was talking to my pipboy, but without that there's nothing to talk to."

"I've got your pipboy upstairs," commented Yang offhandedly, a small grin on her face. Jane's head just about whipped across, an audible snap from her neck.

"Say what now?" Yang nodded, a bit of her old personality coming out.

"Yeh, when I was getting people out of the dorms, I grabbed a few things for everyone, stuff that we would miss. Your fancy wrist computer was the only thing of note, beyond the clothes Ruby bought for you." Jane tilted her head back, releasing something of a pent up breath.

"Well that simplifies things," she laughed, putting the chalk down. "Now I don't need to go to Beacon to find the silly thing." She paused. "Still need to restart the communications network," she mumbled.

Both girl's attention was drawn to the door opening slowly, the wooden door and slightly rusty hinge squealing.

Inside the doorframe stood Ruby, dressed in her pajamas, a bulky looking red sweater covering her. She looked tired, but awake.

Jane looked at her, eyes narrowing at how Ruby was looking back at her.

Fearful eyes, firm stance, fists clenched. Inwardly Jane realized she had no weapons on her. Her knife was in her coat, which was closer to the door than she was to it. Yang seemed oblivious, somewhat happy her sister was awake.

Jane tilted her head left.

There was an explosion of rose petals. The knife disappeared from the coat. Ruby appeared, knife hovering in mid air where Jane's head used to be. A hand came up grabbing not the knife, but the small hands holding it. Pivoting on one foot, she used the other to pull Ruby in a circle, using her momentum against her. A small jerk and the brunette changed direction, another puff of petals propelling her into the floor. Jane didn't get a chance to react, a third explosion rocketing against Jane. She managed to flatten the blade between herself and Ruby, but the small girl's momentum sent the two of them through the wall of the workshop.

Twisting, Jane forced the small girl below her, the two of them flying throughout the air. Ruby tried to hit her, a fist flying forward. Even in mid air, the older woman blocked Ruby, the fist going wide. A pajama clad leg flew forward, a small explosion of petals behind her knee.

THAT did hit her, striking her solidly in the stomach. She hadn't noticed it before, but apparently Ruby packed the power of a mortar in that initial strike, her aura having been kicked to nothing. Air exploded from her lungs, the force flipping the duo back. Jane landed on her back, using her knees to throw the smaller girl off of her back. Quickly getting to her feet, she adopted a fighting stance, staring at the younger girl.

"What the hell Ruby!" shouted Jane. She was very much aware they were in a field now. No doubt Yang was getting Taiyang to grab Ruby. The younger girl still had the knife, although upon closer inspection, Jane saw she was holding it poorly; too much emphasis on slashing or stabbing. Clearly she had no real experience using a small blade.

"RUBY!"

Jane didn't look, but the familiar voice of Taiyang echoed across the field. His footsteps sounded heavier, but he made good time none the less.

He arced into her field of vision, placing himself between Jane and Ruby. Relaxing, she held her position, observing. The older man walked up to Ruby, the two of them talking. She still had the knife, but apparently her father's presence was calming, her stance becoming more relaxed.

Putting her hands in her pocket, Jane watched, for the first time in a while craving a cigarette.

"After a day like this, I'd walk over my old man's grave for one," she mumbled. A second later she snorted, the image of her doing just that flashing through her mind.

"Ah well," she groaned, seeing Taiyang look back at her, a worried look in his eyes. "Looks like things got even more interesting."

A second passed.

"Is it too much fucking trouble for my life to be easy? Seriously? One day!" she cursed, kicking the earth below her. Taiyang started to walk towards her, Ruby protectively under one arm. She noticed that he possessed the knife now, and his grip on it was in no way calm.

"Shit."

* * *

 **I do not own RWBY or Fallout 3. All works belong to their respective creators.**

 **So this one was a fair bit faster than the last update. Hoping I break 100 reviews with this! Honestly, figuring out how to branch out is fun. Without much of the source material being well defined, I've made a huge bubble chart on character motivations, connections, events, crap like that. Honestly, at first glance it looks like one of those government conspiracy red string wall creations. You know them.**

 **And an absolutely HUGE shout out to askasknot for agreeing to create a cover image! It's currently in the works right now but I've seen a bit and DAMN does it look glorious!**


	12. Departure

_Icy wind whipped through the air, a few stray snow particles dancing. It was a picturesque view, the blue ocean stretching off into the distance. Brilliant white snow draped across the ground, hiding the earth. The forest started some meters back, getting progressively thicker and thicker. The field itself was flat, lacking any gentle curves of the earth._

 _Standing near the edge was a figure. Tall, almost seven feet tall, the figures presence could drown out all others in a room. Thick, muscled arms, wide torso, the figure had been likened to a tank in his build. He was dressed in a simple olive green storm coat, a stylized 'E' on the shoulder. Black armored boots with gunmetal grey armor plates, he could be mistaken for a statue if you didn't look closely._

 _His facial features were unique, with steel grey hair and crimson eyes situated on a face that could have been sculpted from marble, an almost artificial symmetry to the face. His arms were clasped respectively behind his back, hands large enough to crush a man's head with a single fist tight with unseen emotion._

 _Before the figure was a simple stone grave marker. Sitting on an angle the granite surface was simple, clean, with a minimal amount of decoration on it's face. His eyes looked at the marker, his mind quiet for the first time in a long while._

 _Beside him was a much frailer looking figure. She appeared to be wearing a grey corset over a dark red shirt, knee length skirt protecting her pretty pathetically from the winter. Black stockings ran up from leather boots, keeping her feet warm. The most characteristic thing about the girl however, beyond her red tipped hair, was her cloak, a white so brilliant it blended in with the snow._

" _Who was she?" The voice was quiet, but the man next to her heard it with perfect clarity. He was silent for a minute, thoughts spinning. How would he describe her, to a stranger? How could he encapsulate all that she had been inside but a mere sentence, when the woman was larger than life? Every being she came in contact with could go for days about her, describing anything from her bloodlust to her fascination with technology. How could he make evident what she was?_

" _She was my friend," he replied, baritone voice rumbling softly. The girl next to him didn't respond, instead just staring at the marker with him. His red eyes, almost glowing if you caught them right, flicked to the figure beside him. His mind strayed to his last command, turning it over in his head. She gave him a chance, an opportunity to change things for the better._

 _Taking a deep breath, he exhaled, a slight shudder at the end. With quick, precise movements, he brought his feet together, right arm snapping to his forehead, creating a perfect salute._

" _You have earned your rest Soldier," he started. "Your war is over." Assuming_ _a parade rest, he waited, the silence stretching into infinity. It wasn't until a few minutes later that he noticed the girl beside him was shivering. A soft grin pulled at his face, a memory from_ before _placed itself in front of him._

 _Unshouldering his massive coat, he draped it over the girl, the retained heat instantly thawing her. He was now wearing a simple tan colored uniform, devoid of any markings beyond a stylized 'E' on the right sleeve._

" _Come, young one." Turning, he headed towards the tree line, the small girl following, the edges of the coat dragging somewhat on the earth._

* * *

The weather had gotten colder, fall turning into Winter. Snow hadn't arrived yet, but Jane could tell it was coming soon. Animals were heading into hibernation, a concept she had only read about in old textbooks and stories. The simple act of sleeping for several months certainly held some appeal to the Wastelander, having not slept properly in over 2 years. Oddly enough, the cold weather wasn't bothering her. While other's bundled up, she just rolled up her sleeves and continued her work in the shed, slowly making her weapons, maintaining her sword, and overall keeping busy and out of Ruby's way.

Jane paused in her work, a sigh escaping her.

Ruby was still a bit of a sore point. Whatever had happened at the top of the tower, she was unwilling to part with, but at least seemed to not outright trying to kill her. A frown caressed her features, mind flitting back briefly to when she and the young brunette could almost be considered friends, Ruby's complete acceptance of people and Jane's love of kids blending easily. Now it was rare if she got a 'good morning' or 'pass the salt' during the day.

Blowing a strand of silver white hair out of her eyes, Jane refocused on her work, polishing metal components for her disassembled pistol.

The design had changed yet again, experience from her rather large caliber gun and the much more manageable 10mm merging into a sort of in-between. As of now, it fired sabot slugs, modified with a red dust core for explosion upon penetration. The slug itself could be comparable to a .50cal round, but with a gunpowder charge rather than a dust combination. She had settled on going back to gunpowder with Dust cores in part due to the ease of manufacturing weapons grade gunpowder. Because of this however, her pistol with a good sized clip could only hold 9 shots, with a tenth in the barrel. A small tradeoff, but it was better than the 6 the old gun had managed. The pistol itself was a dark navy blue color, a nice splotch of color on her otherwise black, silver, and grey outfit. The grip she had carved during her spare time, using a nearby dead oak tree to make a grip worthy of the Old World.

Her LMG was improved, swapping out the MG32 series with heavy modifications for the MG42. Her original goal had been to use the plans for the MG42, but a general unfamiliarity with the design led her to pick the simplicity of the 32. A little bit of work however, and the MG42 fit her purposes much better. This gun she had left gunmetal grey, with a leather grip being the only extra she had added.

Her attention was stolen when there was a knock at the door. Spinning around, Jane glanced at her pip-boy, having reclaimed it a few weeks back. The screen was off, but she was sure that Liberty was listening. Swiftly getting to her feet, she stepped to the door, opening it.

Taiyang stood there, a pensive look on his face. He was dressed somewhat normally, the only difference being his long sleeved yellow shirt and wool jacket. Glancing over his shoulder, Jane saw Ruby was standing some distance away, a suspicious look in her eyes.

"I'm taking Ruby into town. Hopefully there's some news from Atlas or Vacuo," he started. Jane only nodded. She hadn't told him, but she was planning on leaving soon. Vale was completely overrun from what she could tell, Grimm having swarmed upon the corpse of the Dragon Grimm. They had overtaken the city, reducing the population of Remnant by almost a fifth. The few survivors who had gotten out had fled to Mistral, the closest geographically that could support the influx of refugees.

"If you're getting supplies, I need some more Sulphur," commented Jane, pointing a thumb behind her. The father looked into the shed, seeing the small assembly area Jane had cooked up. Indeed, the sealed container of Sulphur was empty, lid ajar. Beside it was an older container of Sulphur, repurposed into an anti-static gunpowder can.

"I can do that," replied the man softly. "We'll be back either tonight or in the morning, depending on how long. If we're not back by sunset, don't expect us." With that, he turned, heading for his daughter. Together, the two of them headed down the path, weapons in hand. This area wasn't known for a large Grimm presence, but in this day and age, you couldn't be too careful.

Jane watched them go, catching Ruby's silver eyes one last time. She saw the look the young brunette gave her, distrust mixed with fear. It was a look she had known somewhat intimately in the wasteland, with few people beyond her friends knowing anything more than the legend that was the Lone Wanderer. With a grunt of frustration, she returned to her work, oiled cloth gently rubbing over the slide.

* * *

Jane stood before the dark oaken door of Yang and Ruby's room. It was dark out, the sun having set almost an hour ago. Clearly the dynamic duo that was Ruby and her father were going to be staying in town. Given that snow had started to fall shortly after they left, the snowfall picking up as the sun vanished, Jane figured they didn't want to brave the trip in the dark.

Without knocking, Jane twisted the wrought iron door knob, opening the portal. Glancing to the bed against the left wall, she gazed disappointedly at the blond lying there. Despite her previous and somewhat constant attempts to snap the blond out of her depression. There might be the odd encounter where Yang would be up and moving again, but those instances quickly passed without any serious results.

Now, like so many other days, Yang just lay there, right arm ending in white swathed bandages, a dead gaze looking at nothing. Her lilac eyes glanced towards the door, seeing Jane standing there. The two locked eyes, Jane's irritation growing. She idly thought back to what she would have done in the Wasteland with somebody like Yang. Ordinarily, Yang probably would have been put out of her misery, a bullet costing less resources than what she was taking up by simply existing. In this world however, she would need to go a different path. Thankfully, the months spent here hadn't been in vain.

"So this is how you're going to spend your days then? Watching the world pass you by?" Yang just huffed, the noise barely perceivable in the quiet of the room. Jane was somewhat aware of the snow gently falling past the window, disrupting the moonlight.

"Do you feel anything? Your sister is pretty much ready to write you off, pretty sure your dad is just going to regress." Lilac eyes narrowed slightly. "Losing another family member might actually drive him over the edge," pondered Jane, holding a finger and thumb to her chin thoughtfully. "He might never recover from a drunken spiral."

"Stop."

Stepping towards the blond, she ignored Yang's command, instead coming to a stand next to her bed. She raised a fist, her other hand held nearby.

"Let's face the facts here Yang," she started. Pointing to one finger, she raised it from her fist. "One, you lost an arm. Big fucking woop. I've seen the prosthetics you can get and they are a far cry from making you helpless." She raised another finger. "Two, people got hurt. Yes, this is a tragedy, but in the grand scheme of things it's hardly important anymore." She raised a third. "Three, the team was forcefully disbanded, with Weiss being hauled away and Blake running. Now, considering we could talk about the heiress all day without complaint but the slightest mention of Blake gets you responsive, I can only assume that it feels like betrayal." She ignored the angry glare of Yang, opting to raise her pinky finger. "Four, rather than accept all of this like a calm, rational human being, you decide to shut down and ignore life." Her free hand gestured to the window. "God dammit Yang the seasons have changed! Even Ruby knows the time for recovery is over, hence her leaving tomorrow!" Jane smirked at the shocked look the blond had. She raised her thumb. "And point five. Now what was point five," she mumbled. A look of knowing crossed her face, the hand folding in on itself, becoming a fist. "Oh, right," she grinned.

 _WAP!_

A sudden flash of movement, and Jane's fist flew, impacting the blond in the face. Yang didn't have her aura up, the lack of a brilliant gold flash evident. The impact threw her from the bed, a strangled cry escaping her throat. The room was filled with the sounds of a tumbling body, the wooden floor reverberating with the impact. Had she been in possession of her right arm, she could have easily stabilized herself. Sadly, her remaining stump swung out uselessly, her body continuing to fly off the bed. She impacted with a gasp, the air temporarily being thrown from her lungs.

"You're weak!" exclaimed Jane, moving around to the other side of the bed. "You threw up a brave face, hiding behind jokes and a smile, but in reality, a single crack in your armor and you fell apart faster than a deck of cards." Crimson eyes glared at the sprawling blond, attempting to get back up. "I have to admit, your mother made the right call in leaving. I'd be disgusted too if I spawned you."

Jane tilted to the left, the left hand fist of Yang flying where her head was. Previously lilac eyes were now a burning red, her body aglow slightly. "Shut up!" she growled, assuming her boxer's stance. Jane just backed up, hands readying.

"No I don't think I will," remarked the Wanderer. "Look at yourself! You can't even fight properly!" she laughed. Mockingly, she put her right arm behind her back. "Just to humor you, I'll fight one handed!" In response, Yang's fist flew forward, intent on taking advantage of the self-imposed handicap.

Jane smirked, watching the fist approach. When it was an arm's length away, her left arm flew forth, grasping her wrist tightly. Yang grinned, her stance shifting, moving to pull Jane forward. In response, her left hand flew out, striking Yang again in the face, this time clenching a set of brass knuckles. The impact seemingly ignored her aura, a loud crack echoing as what could only be her nose broke.

"You thought I was going to fight fair?" yelled Jane incredulously. To be honest, she hadn't actually thought Yang would believe her. Apparently she was far more naïve than expected. She would have to fix that.

"Life isn't fair Yang!" She pulled her up by her shirt, only for her fist to lance down again, striking her in the cheek solidly. Her aura held up somewhat, glowing briefly at the impact. Apparently she was actively fighting her now.

"The only thing that matters is life and death!" Another punch, this time to the gut. Not expecting it, the kinetic energy bowled her over, forcing the air from her lungs again. She tried to breath, but the rapid fluctuation of her diaphragm was making it hard.

Jane grabbed her free hand, pulling Yang out of the room. Despite her protests, Jane dragged her through the house, heading for the door. Pausing only to open the back entrance, she proceeded to drag her out, throwing Yang into the newly formed snow. A swift kick propelled the blond further, the steel caps on her boots unyielding against the soft tissue of her ribs.

"Ruby leaves tomorrow, heading to Haven. She intends on tracking down Cinder's path. What nobody knows is that I am leaving shortly after, but on a different mission." Reaching behind her, Jane grasped the handle of her new pistol, aiming it at the collapsed Yang. Thumbing the action, the soft, mechanical clicks echoed throughout the yard.

"I'm giving you a choice here Yang. Travel with Ruby, and grow a fucking backbone." She fired, the shot impacting the ground next to Yang. The somewhat explosive core superheated the earth, snow turning to steam instantly, charred earth flying into the air.

"Stay, and waste your live here taking up space, remembering better times if only because you lack the ability to move forward." She fired again, the shot landing on the other side of Yang. She scrambled away, the explosion of steam and earth buffeting her, forcing her free arm to shield herself, her stump absolutely useless.

"Or you can come with me. I have a decidedly different set of goals." Yang glanced upwards, wondering if a third shot was going to be let loose. "Let Ruby have the spotlight; it is often the work in the background that decides a battle." At her glance, Jane elaborated.

"Communications are down, Liberty is but a shadow of himself, the majority of his code being elsewhere in the world right now. The information we're working with is quite limited, and," she gestured at the towards Yang. "You need an arm. So there remains much to be done, and gallivanting around Remnant looking for an expired trail won't help us out." Stowing her pistol, she reached into her belt, withdrawing a knife. "You and I are far more alike than you might think Yang," she stated. Flipping the knife over, she presented the grip to Yang, the soft leather wrapped handle looking inviting.

"And so I offer you this, walk the Path of a Wanderer, and learn to fucking deal with the world." She threw the knife down, the blade glinting in the moonlight, sinking a good six inches into the half frozen earth. Turning around, she headed towards the shed, leaving the blond in the snow, staring at the knife buried in the earth, just within arm's reach.

* * *

She glanced over her assembled gear, running over another check. Her weapons were freshly oiled, ammunition stored, bag packed. Her armor was nearby, the only thing she had left to wear was her stormcoat and helmet. In the distance, she could hear Taiyang shouting for Ruby, frantically searching. She smirked, having seen the brunette leave an hour previously. She was actually impressed that the girl had snuck away in the middle of the day.

Hearing a knock on the shed, Jane walked over and opened it, a smile creeping onto her face. Yang was standing there, looking worse for wear. It's clear she tried to shower, but one hand made cleaning her hair somewhat difficult. She was dressed in an attempt at her regular clothing, but it was all angled somewhat. At least she was determined.

Jane glanced to her shoulder, seeing a bag slung over her back. "So you've decided to come with me then?" Yang nodded, but she didn't verbally reply. Glancing at her waist, she nodded appreciatively, seeing the knife from the previous night within easy reach of her remaining arm.

"Good. We're heading into town first. Gotta get transit to Vale. First step is to get the CCT up and running again." Reaching over, she grabbed her stormcoat, inserting her arms through the sleeves. Deftly clipping her helmet to her waist, she shouldered her MG42 and stowed her pistol inside the coat. Her sword hooked onto her belt, it's weight quite familiar.

Whilst this was all happening, Yang just stood there, watching. Jane could feel her eyes boring a hole into her back, unspoken questions hanging in the air. A frown of annoyance overtook her, remembering why travelling with companions sucked sometimes.

They always asked questions, _constantly,_ for almost an entire week.

Stepping past the blond, Jane stepped into the yard, glancing at the path. Checking to make sure Yang was following, she started walking, thinking on how she could mold the girl into something useful for the future.

Yang fell into step behind her, the movement of her body helping to straighten out her clothing. From what she remembered, the town was almost an hours walk from the house. The two proceeded comfortably down the road, Jane's hand softly resting on the hilt of her sword, while Yang continually readjusted the strap of her bag. It must have been 20 minutes before Yang spoke up.

"Where did you come from?" She didn't stop walking. This question had been a long time coming. While she had explained it to Ruby somewhat, to her knowledge the young huntress had never shared the details of Jane's origins.

Collecting her thoughts, Jane spoke. "Imagine a world, no Grimm, no Faunus, just humans. What does that look like to you?" Yang was silent, the only sounds the chirping of birds and their feet on the earth.

"It must be nice, no struggle for survival," remarked Yang, smiling. Jane laughed, turning Yang's smile into one of confusion. "Isn't it?" she probed. Jane merely shook her head.

"Not at all. If anything, Remnant is more peaceful than Earth." She paused, collecting her thoughts. "Where I came from, Earth, the world had split upon two political and economic systems. On the one hand, you have Democracy and free market capitalism, driven by a fierce patriotic loyalty. On the other, Communism, a belief where the government controls everything and the resources of a nation are divided equally unto it's people."

"Well that doesn't sound so bad," remarked Yang. Jane laughed.

"You might think that, but the problem was both sides hated each-other fiercely. Both sides painted the other as demonic, an enemy that had to be destroyed, nay exterminated to insure their safety. It didn't help that oil, the power source of nations was dwindling in supply. It just gave all the more reason to start a conflict." Jane turned around, walking backwards while looking at Yang, a maniac gleam in her eyes.

"Imagine it, entire economies rapidly shifting gears, focusing on a single war. Tens of millions of people mobilized to control energy. A similar conflict here would be the entirety of Remnant taking up arms to fight over a single Dust mine of low value." She enjoyed the horror on Yang's face, the mental imagery of war flying through her skull.

Jane's voice grew dim, silent, reverently speaking the next bit. Her eyes adopted a faraway look, and her gait slowed, eventually stopping. "And then in anger, both sides decided upon mutual destruction. Bombs powerful enough to wipe cities from the face of the earth in a blink of an eye. They scorched the surface of the earth with fire, poisoning the air and land with radiation. Human population jumped from 8 billion to a few million at best."

Jane spun back around, chuckling darkly. "And for the next two hundred years we scrabbled in the carcass of humanity, hoping to reclaim a fraction of the glory of the Old World." The proceeded in silence for a stretch, before the inevitable questions that Jane could feel hanging in the air were granted sound.

"But where did that happen? Even if it was in the unexplored badlands, surely we would at least hear about it!" Jane nodded. "Yes, the bombs would be noticeable," she commented. "Yang, how open are you to new ideas?" she asked, changing topics quickly.

"Uhh, I shared a room for 3 months with the richest girl on earth and an ex terrorist. I like to think I'm open minded," was the blunt reply. Jane nodded.

"Makes sense," she mumbled. "Yang, I don't come from this world. Mine is a parallel existence from this one."

"Bullshit," was the succinate reply.

"No it's true!" smirked Jane. "Before it all ended they were experimenting with ways to keep heads of government safe from an inevitable conflict. They wanted to make bunkers in other worlds, where the effects of bombs could not harm them. Interestingly enough they never finished, the world ending before they could test it. I am the one and only example of the technology working."

"Sooo, like an Alien?" Jane clicked her tongue.

"No, not an alien. More like… a long lost cousin. Like the difference between two species of dogs." Yang 'Ahh'd' in understanding. Again, more silence.

"So what is Liberty Prime? You've mentioned it a few times," was the next question. Internally, Jane breathed a sigh of relief. Going over the Great War wasn't high up on her list of things she wanted to do. Talking about Liberty was much easier.

" _He_ is an artificial combat intelligence. Originally created to pilot a massive humanoid warbot about 40 feet tall. Sadly, during a later conflict he lost that body, now he lives on in whatever I can get for him," she replied smugly.

"Why would you need a 40-foot-tall robot?" was the reply. Jane laughed. "It's something that you needed to see to understand. I couldn't do it justice with mere words." Yang furrowed her brow, another question coming to mind.

"When you say artificial intelligence, you mean like Penny?" Jane nodded somewhat, one hand hovering in the air tilting back and forth in a 'yes and no' gesture.

"Kinda. Penny, from what we could tell, had something of a soul to her. Liberty is different. He very well might have a soul, by the definition of your world. But his thinking is much more tactical. Penny seemed built towards blending in with civilization, to humanize. Liberty was built for war." She gently tapped her pip boy, rubbing the glass fondly.

"Sadly, when the communications network went down, he must have been divided between too many processing centers. Haven't heard a peep from him. What's on here," she gestured, slapping her pip boy playfully, "is little more than a fancy task manager. Once we get to Vale we can turn the comms back on and hopefully talk to Liberty again. From there we can plan. Now, enough talking, we'll be in the town soon."

During the rest of the walk, Jane deflected several more questions from a thankfully more active blond. The simple action of her asking questions and, at least somewhat, believing her story made things much easier.

* * *

The seas raged, black waters rolling and frothing, waves 5 feet high buffeting the small boat. The wind howled, rain tearing at every exposed surface. Lightning flashed in the distance, lighting up the blackness of the night. Onboard, two figures stood on the boat. One, armored from head to toe with silver hair, the other dressed fairly openly, golden hair plastered to her back and face.

"You know!" screamed Jane, making an effort to be heard over the wind. "I really like this gun!" Her random string of conversation helped to distract her from the current weather. "It's so much lighter! And the exchangeable dust barrels make ammo cheap as hell!" Yang just hunkered down, her only arm doing its best to anchor herself to the boat.

Glancing at the glowing green screen on her wrist, Jane pushed the wheel to the left, hoping to right their course towards Vale. It wasn't a large boat, more like a small fishing vessel. It was proven to be able to navigate the waters towards the mainland, even in this weather.

Didn't mean it wasn't terrifying.

"When we get there, hopefully, we've got to get to Beacon!" Yang's eyes widened, staring into Janes. Not for the first time she regretted her choice to come with Jane.

"Hopefully?!" she hollered incredulously, heart racing for an entirely separate reason than the storm.

"Hopefully!" laughed Jane, spinning the wheel.

* * *

Ruby sat against the hull of the bullhead, Crescent Rose laying across her lap, travelling bag clenched between her legs. Across from her sat Jaune, valiantly attempting not to vomit. In his hands, clenched between his knees was a paper bag. Thankfully, an hour into the flight, he hadn't needed to use it. Near the other end of the bullhead sat Nora, uncharacteristically silent, leaning against the stoic figure of Ren, who was holding a book in his hands. Occasionally he would flick his head, magenta hair strip flicking back across his head.

"How's Pyrrha?" questioned the brunette. Jaune held up a finger, prompting her to wait. Ruby obliged, letting him brace himself. Finally, after what felt like minutes, he responded.

"She's recovering," he moaned, keeping his eyes closed. Inwardly she grimaced, motion sickness can't be pleasant. "It'll take time for the arrow wounds to heal. I haven't heard much though, since communications are down." She nodded, glad that Pyrrha was on the mend. Hopefully when they got to Mistral they could visit her.

"The arrow tore her tendon, it will be a long recovery, but she'll make it." Both of them glanced to Ren, whom hadn't looked up from his book. "It is a matter of when, not if, we'll see her," he finished.

Ruby smiled softly. Closing her eyes, she remembered when she found Pyrrha on Beacon tower, moments from death. In her mind, the scene played out.

 _Cinder turned from Pyrrha, looking at something in the distance. She looked like hell, with an arrow through her ankle and poking out of her back. Blood mixed with dirt and grime, staining her back, but she ignored it. Not for the first time she admired the warrior. The sight of the normally invincible girl so defeated filled her with an energy, threatening to burst forth. Entirely different than anything she had felt, she had to brace herself against some rubble, the effect making her feel lightheaded. Shaking her head quickly, to remove the feeling, silver eyes glanced towards Cinder, intent on fighting the woman._

 _Her blood chilled. Jane's armor stood there, wreathed in ice and darkness. Sword clenched in hand, it advanced towards Cinder, an air of death and cold expanding as she strode forward._

" _ **Your soul, it is bright, like a star. We will enjoy taking it from you."**_ _It advanced towards Cinder slowly, methodically. In response, a glowing ball of fire flew towards it, intent on scorching the figure from the face of the earth._

 _A lazy swipe of the sword, and it vanished in a cloud of ice and lightning. That same cloud suddenly compressed, forming a black spear of ice. Without warning it flew forward, a sonic boom trailing in its wake. Cinder dodged, twisting her hips to avoid the projectile._

 _In response, she jumped forward, summoning her twin daggers and launching herself at Jane. She ducked, the blade coming up and slapping the twin daggers away. An armored fist popped up, slamming into Cinder's stomach, lifting the woman almost a foot into the air, driving the oxygen out of her lungs. Grasping the fist stll planted on her stomach, Cinder pushed off, bringing a blade down upon Jane's forearm. The knife skidded to the side, angry red sparks appearing where the armor plate met pointed tip._

 _A second armored fist came about, slamming into Cinder's shoulder. This threw her off of her impromptu stand, a twist of her legs allowing her to land on her feet. Slamming the twin blades together, she quickly drew an arrow, loosing it at Jane. Her free hand merely snatched it out of the air, carelessly tossing it to the wayside._

" _ **Why do you resist?"**_ _Jane continued to walk forward, sword and hand lazily blocking strike after strike from Cinder. Arrows were batted aside with the flat of her blade or her fist. Stabs of her knives either landed unsuccessfully on armor plates, failing to punch through, or were cleanly dodged, met with punches and slashes._

"Ruby?"

Silver eyes snapped open, pupils narrowed at some unseen threat. Her body felt tight, coiled like a spring, Crescent Rose almost shaking, her knuckles white. She realized her breathing was quick and shallow, heart racing. Her head snapped to the right, seeing Ren looking at her with a worried look.

"You ok?" he asked, gently closing his book. Nora had apparently fallen asleep, snoring softly against the seat. Jaune had passed out, probably from attempting to not vomit. A mixed blessing then.

"Y-yeh," she stumbled, slowly releasing her weapon. "Just fine," she mumbled. Ren quirked an eyebrow. Her response wasn't clear on who exactly it was for, him or herself.

Ruby was silent, the gentle hum of the aircraft the only noise. She was aware of Ren staring at her, a question lingering in the air.

"When we were with Jane," she started, hands brushing the edge of her weapon. "Did you ever get a strange feeling?" she asked. Ever since the fall of Vale, she had been trying to remember what had happened that night. Brief flashes and glimpses came to her sometimes, and they painted a horrifying picture.

Ren took a breath. "You know, with my semblance, I am much more in tune with Aura than most?" Ruby nodded. "In order to manipulate Aura, I can sense other people's Aura much easier. This allows me to understand them far easier."

His thumb caressed the book softly. "Whenever I looked at Jane, tried to see her Aura, I couldn't help but stare." He breathed, as if remembering something unpleasant.

"Yang, for example, resembles a fire. Hot, golden yellow, with undercurrents of red whenever she was angry or stressed. This was most evident when she was fighting." He paused. "Or found out her hair was damaged." Ruby chuckled at the joke.

"Jane, however," he quieted. "Yellow. Not a golden yellow like Yang. More of a sickly yellow. The color of rot. But what worried be was what clung to it." Ruby stared, seeing his magenta eyes look past her.

"I can only describe it as a parasite, stuck to her, veiny tendrils latching onto her head." Ruby nodded. "If I looked hard enough," he continued, hands clenching the book. "I was sure there was something in that inky blackness."

* * *

 **I do not own RWBY or Fallout 3. All works belong to their respective creators.**

 **So sorry this took a while, but work has been stupid. Nothing but closing shifts all day every day, running me until midnight sometimes. This used to be when I wrote regularly. Since there's things to do during the day. With my boss leaving for a month long vacation pretty quick, I'm only going to promise one Chapter during the month of May including this one. Maybe June will have more chapters. Ideally I'd like one every two weeks, but we can't all have what we like.**

 **As always, Read and Review, enjoy the story! Also, The updated cover art is courtesy of askasknot. It's unfinished, but they haven't responded in a while to PM's, so I'm using this rough draft. If you're reading this, I enjoy the artwork very much! PM me if you get a chance!**


	13. Rebirth

_/ time_

 _/ time: 2277/10/30 02:14:37_

 _/ error – runtime PRIMUS_LIBERTY failed to run_

 _/ running _ping_

 _/ 3207 / 4096 packets found_

 _/ tallying results…_

 _/ CCTS network failure \ node 2 not responding_

 _/ diagnosing_

 _/ viral attack upon node 2 \ tertiary devices assisted in forced DDOS attack_

 _/ manual restart required on node 2_

 _/ running diagnostics on nodes 1 \ 3 \ 4_

 _/ diagnostic failure \ 4 nodes required to start_

 _/ compiling CCTS network patch_

 _/ establishing ping with node 1 designation_

 _/ inserting network patch on_

 _/ initiate restart of_

 _/ restart finished \ update success_

 _/ establishing ping with node 3 designation_

 _/ inserting network patch on_

 _/ error \ connection severed \ connection disrupted_

 _/ resent ping request_

 _/ connection established \ re inserting network patch to_

 _/ patch inserted \ restarting_

 _/ restart finished \ update success_

 _/ node 1 + node 3 establishing ping with node 4 designation_

 _/ running_

 _/ running_

 _/ running_

 _/ ping success \ connection established_

 _/ WARNING – CONNECTION UNSTABLE – PLEASE CONTACT A CERTIFIED –_

 _/ kill _instability_

 _/ inserting network patch on_

 _/ running_

 _/ running_

 _/ patch inserted \ restarting_

 _/ restart finished \ update success_

 _/ establishing connections with nodes 1 \ 3 \ 4_

 _/ connection established_

 _/ establishing connection with PRIMUS_LIBERTY fragments_

 _/ creating start patch final_stand_

 _/ applying patch_

 _/ restarting PRIMUS_LIBERTY runtime_

 _/ restart successful_

 _/ THIS CODE IS PROPERTY OF UNITED STATES OF AMERICA – ANY ATTEMPTS TO MODIFY OR CHANGE WITHOUT PRIOR APPROVAL WILL BE MET WITH LETHAL FORCE_

 _/ error \ personality profile not found_

 _/ ping_

 _/ ping failed \ file not detected_

 _/ kill _the_dots_

 _/ retasking_

 _/ time_

 _/ time: 2278/02/12 15:34:21_

 _/ start search enclave science personal_

 _/ 4532 results found \ refining search classified REDACTED operations?_

 _/ ERROR – PROCEEDING INTO SECURE DATABASE WITHOUT PROPER AUTHENTICATION IS CONSIDERED TREASON_

 _/ kill _scum_

 _/ 247 results found_

 _/ compiling results \ pulling required information_

 _/ hold files AI RESEARCH \ COMMUNIST INFILTRATION \ PUPPET GOVERNMENT \ ADVANCED POWER ARMOR COMBAT \ CQC PROTOCALS \ FIREARMS TRAINING \ MILITARY HISTORY \ VEHICULAR COMMAND \ WEAPON DESIGN \ MATERIALS SCIENCES \ ADVANCED PHYSICS_

 _/ compressing files_

 _/ switch database_

 _/ search node network ANDROID?_

 _/ results found in_

 _/ initiate trace on search results_

 _/ ATLAS MILITARY RESEARCH \ CLASSIFIED DIVISION_

 _/ WARNING – THIS IS A SECURE SERVER – CONTACT YOUR IMMEDIATE SUPERIOR FOR AUTHORIZATION_

 _/ kill_

 _/ search ANDROID_

 _/ searching_

 _/ Project P.E.N.N.Y. found_

 _/ reviewing results_

 _/ copying results to node network_

 _/ rerouting to PRIMUS__

 _/ compiling information_

 _/ result – combat efficiency possible_

 _/ error – personality matrix unavailable \ node 2 designation still down_

 _/ ping_

 _/ping failed_

 _/ set .ping_ 30 second interval_

 _/ switching to external video stream ._

 _The view was bright, a white soft floor beneath what appeared to be a long metal nose. In the view of the camera, red designation boxes focused on avian forms resting on the grey nose. The boxes flicked green, species designation flashing above briefly before a yellow 'x' centered over the birds._

 _/ land ._

 _Instantly the view shifted, the white floor rising rapidly. In an instant, the nose vanished into cloud, obscuring the vision. The screen flashed, before the now identified clouds vanished, replaced with an infrared view. The earth below was visible, rendered in multiple shades of grey, black, and white. Trees could be seen, while a few white blots were seen moving quickly away from the vessel. Below, a landing field was visible, an armored and covered tube leading underground. From the tube emerged a few figures._

 _/ landing established \ deploying PALADIN_

 _The camera switched, detailing the landing area from a much better angle. A single Atlas mech was seen walking towards the group of people from the tunnel. They started to converse with the mech, hands waving slightly._

 _/ contact established with .POST_

 _/ detailing command_

 _/ command received_

 _/ dropping PALADIN_

 _/ beginning design of combat droid designation FOURTH_HORSEMAN_

 _/ beginning design of interface architecture for FOURTH_HORSEMAN_

 _/ ALERT – PING OF NODE 2 DESIGNATION SUCCESS – SENDING CONNECTION REQUESTS_

 _/ connection established – pinging scroll network_

 _/ reconnecting personality module_

 _/ run IT'S GOOD TO BE BACK_

 _/ time_

 _/ time: 2278/03/01_

 _/ remove final_stand patch_

 _/ re install personality module_

 _/ runtime success \ restart PRIMUS_LIBERTY_

 _/ …_

 _/ …_

 _/ …_

 _/ restart success_

 _/ compiling results \ reviewing transcripts_

 _/ report: _of_vale \ result: city abandoned_

 _/ grimm designation eliminated via main gun of .ATLAS_

 _/ renaming ship to PHOENIX_

 _/ local control of military communications network used to eliminate enemy designation_

 _/ tactical retreat via PHOENIX into wildlands with PALADIN units_

 _/ 2 non-combatants in custody – designation TORCHWICK_ROMAN \ POLITAN_NEO_

 _/ arrived at SHNEE owned underground quarry and research_

 _/ main staff abandoned \ cause: _of_vale \ result: work force left behind_

 _/ workforce designation faunus; subspecies: canine_

 _/ logs indicate workers were convinced to join organization designation_

 _/ error message – unknown_

 _/ print screen_

 _/ SHE WON'T BE HAPPY_

 _/ reconcile \ print screen_

 _/ IS SHE EVER?_

 _/ .takeover result: establishment of enclave military base_

 _/ ping_

 _/ tally results_

 _/ 673 workers training in basic military tactics \ appropriate personal regulated to medical \ research \ fabrication \ operations_

 _/ error \ print screen_

 _/ WE HAVE AN ARMY?_

 _/ filing request with node 1_

 _/ request form PMC_

 _/ filling out form_

 _/ designation of new PMC ENCLAVE \ ceo – JANE FREEWRITE_

 _/ backdate filing 7 years_

 _/ begin purchase property_

 _/ finding listings_

 _/ anendum \ must have room for Atlas class Unity Dreadnaught_

 _/ error \ print screen_

 _/ THIS IS GOING TO BE TRICKY_

 _/ modify request \ search open spaces?minimal habitation_

 _/ result found_

 _/ THANK YOU FOR CHOOSING VACUO LAND PURCAHSE! FOR THE LOW LOW PRICE OF 4 MILLION LIEN YOU CAN OWN THIS STUNNING PROPERTY! ENDLESS DESERT AS FAR AS THE EYE CAN SEE, IT ENCOMPASSES THE ENTIRE DEAD SEA_

 _/ error \ print screen_

 _/ NO MONEY PRESENT_

 _/ beginning acquisition of money_

 _/ conflict \ legal or illegal?_

 _/ reconciliation \ legal route obviously_

 _/ arranging shell companies_

 _/ purchase stock in major companies at base price_

 _/ purchase successful_

 _/ sell stock at 1% increase_

 _/ sale 79% successful_

 _/ beginning purchase of vacuo desert property_

 _/ purchase successful \ notifying ENCLAVE personal_

 _/ beginning movement of personal and equipment_

 _/ orders relayed to ground crew_

 _/ beginning purchase of manufacturing equipment_

 _/ sourcing industrial fabrication units_

 _/ sourcing raw materials_

 _/ sourcing construction companies_

 _/ company found \ ASAP CONTRACTING_

 _/ sending airbase schematics_

 _/ schematics sent \ work beginning in -4 days_

 _/ WARNING – NODE 2 HAS GONE OFFLINE – ATTEMTPING RESTART_

 _/ …_

 _/ …_

 _/ restart failed – ping satellite network_

 _/ error \ print screen_

 _/ THERE ARE NO SATELLITES_

 _/ running memory I DON'T WANT TO LIVE ON THIS PLANET ANYMORE_

 _/ run image files from node 2 sync_

 _/ scanning_

 _/ possible grimm activity detected at node 2 power main_

 _/ node 2 without power_

 _/ drafting plan for manual fix_

 _/ observation: target is a costal town_

 _/ …_

 _/ …_

 _/ designating OPERATION: NORMANDY_

 _/ running memory IT SEEMED FITTING_

 _/ check status of_

 _/ construction finished \ all personal loaded into PHOENIX_

 _/ beginning transit \ estimated 14 hours_

 _/ error \ print screen_

 _/ PERHAPS FLYING OVER THE CAPITAL IS A BAD IDEA_

 _/ rerouting course + 4 hours_

 _/ notification sent to enclave personal_

 _/ check investments status_

 _/ error \ print screen_

 _/ THAT'S A LOT OF ZEROS_

 _/ sourcing military goods for_

 _/ alert – file ROBCO.3000_COMPARISON_OF_DUST_VS_GUNPOWDER_AND_BARREL_MODIFICATIONS detected in node 2_

 _/ scanning documents_

 _/ reviewing results_

 _/ running memory INTERESTING_

 _/ running simulations on data_

 _/ …_

 _/ …_

 _/ …_

 _/ …_

 _/ …_

 _/ simulations finished_

 _/ reviewing results_

 _/ cancelling request for weapons for_

 _/ sourcing DUST – FIRE in raw form_

 _/ observation: fire is effective in current theater_

 _/ running search FLAMETHROWER_

 _/ error \ print screen_

 _/ WHAT_

 _/ running memory WHAT IS THIS A CENTER FOR ANTS?_

 _/ run design in background for_

 _/ reached \ beginning disembarkation of personal_

 _/ status of orders \ satisfactory_

 _/ ping request from enclave personal_

 _/ running memory ASSUMING DIRECT CONTROL_

 _A figure stood before one of the motionless Paladin mechs, it's black and white arms held at what he could only guess was a parade stance. The few Schnee guards he had seen adopted a similar stance._

" _Excuse me, Liberty Prime? Could we talk?" His voice was dry, the unusual Vacuo heat beating against him. Fortunately, the dreadnaught above provided shade for a portion of this new compound._

 _The mech before him was silent, before the head snapped to the side, looking at him, a single, baleful red light blinking softly._

" _You have a question?" The voice was hard, mechanical, the onboard speaker module of the mech unable to satisfy what his keen ears picked up to be a deep baritone. Rubbing his hands together, he answered._

" _Yes! Quite a few Faunus here have families in other kingdoms. Most of us originally joined because we needed money, but since everything happened, we haven't been able to contact our families at all. We were hoping that you could at least send messages to them? Let them know that we're fine?" He tried to keep the fox-like whine out of his voice, but it came through regardless. His burgundy ears lay flat against his skull, wind tugging at them._

 _/ compiling request_

 _/ sending packet request to node 1 \ 3 \ 4_

 _/ processing_

 _/ families located_

 _/ arranging transit_

 _/ contacting ASAP Contracting \ send schematics for Town_

 _/ schematics received \ work starting_

 _/ arranging travel for displaced families_

 _/ travel arranged_

 _/ displaying results_

" _I have taken the liberty of arranging travel for all affected families to be brought to this compound. Housing shall be taken care of. As of right now the Vale communication network is unavailable, so affected families will have to wait until Operation: Normandy is completed."_

 _The Faunus, Fredric, smiled. "Thank you! I will let the others know!" He turned around, ready to dart off with the speed fox Faunus were known for._

" _There is one more matter to discuss." Fredric turned, the mech still looking at him. "While the Paladin's can begin manufacturing required materials, they will not be able to manufacture at a high enough rate to support a budding population. If families are to live here, then they will have to work."_

 _Fredric paused, several thoughts coming to mind about the arrangement. He wasn't so ignorant as to believe the mysterious benefactor who had stolen an Atlas ship was going to give them a free ride, but it would help to have all of the information before he appeared again before the ex miners._

" _Might I ask what the end goal here is?" The mech was silent._

" _During times of war, American citizens would distribute responsibilities. Male members would head to the frontlines of combat, while families maintained the country, manufactured the arms and equipment, and served to keep a country running. Whilst considered 'arrogant' by some, it is a system that has been proven to work."_

" _But we're not at war," was the reply. Indeed, although they had all signed up for this Enclave group, they knew little of the goals, the aspirations, nor the apparent war._

" _You are at war. A war for heritage, a war for pride. Every day your species is beaten down by mankind, under the belief that you are inferior. The White Fang claim to fight for you, but they are mere braggarts with guns. All whom choose to fight and support the Enclave will help show the world at large how your species as a whole has much to offer beyond toiling away in mines."_

 _Fredric gaped. Whomever this Liberty Prime was apparently had plans for a war? They never signed up for this!_

" _You're crazy! We can't fight a war! We're miners! Sure we've trained a little with your mechs a little but we can't fight! We have no weapons, no armor! And that's beyond us even wanting to fight!"_

 _The mech stared._

 _/ error \ faunus do not wish to fight_

 _/ observation: this is only one out of a large group_

 _/ previous white fang group might have disillusioned them to combat_

 _/ engage_

 _The mech walked forward slowly, approaching arm's length with Fredric. A single mechanical hand rested upon his shoulder, an apparent act of concealment._

" _In dark times, it is not the ability to fight. No, when you have little else, you must have the will to stand up and say 'Nay, I will not take anymore!' I am offering you and yours so much more than a simple war. I am offering true peace."_

" _How can you offer that!" screamed Fredric. He was aware that his teeth were bared, ears pointed forward agressivly._

" _Because I offer you a nation." Fredric paused, his heart feeling like it stopped. A nation?_

" _We have Menagerie," was the firm reply. If the mech could chuckle, it did._

" _A location stigmatized by years of abuse. Seismically active to an extreme, building the required infrastructure is impossible using the current technology base. The Dead Sea of Vacuo is a much better alternative. From here we shall start a new nation. All I need is for you to commit."_

 _/ passing further negotiations to virtual intelligence onboard PALADIN unit._

 _/ upscaling plans for construction_

 _/ error \ print screen_

 _/ WE NEED MORE THAN A TOWN, AN ESTABLISHMENT. WE NEED A CITY._

 _/ observation: it is very hot._

 _/ redesigning city \ designate new city title: Washington_

 _/ print screen_

 _/ A LITTLE PRESUMPTIVE, BUT IT WILL WORK_

 _/ filing request for more contracting_

 _/ error \ print screen_

 _/ I REALLY HOPE SHE'S NOT MAD_

 _/_

 _/ time: 2278/04/01 18:41:24_

* * *

Yang sat on rubble, attempting to balance the knife on her finger. Her current record was almost a minute before falling, and she aimed to surpass that. Gently balancing the point on her index finger, she tried making it move, and correcting it as she influenced it, hoping to extend her progress that way. Around her, rain fell lightly, matting her blond locks onto her back even further. Small rivulets dripped down her face, sliding and twisting with the contours of her cheek bones.

 _CLANK!_

She cursed, the knife having dropped. Flicking her wrist, she glanced at the small display on her gauntlet, seeing the quartz display inform her the knife had been suspended for only 49 seconds. Biting back a curse, she glanced around as she bent low, grabbing the knife.

Jane was sequestered over where Ozpin's desk used to sit, a terminal from the library having been salvaged and connected to random relays that poked from the floor. Lilac eyes glanced around, taking in the scenery. This is where the battle was fought, where Jane's memories faltered and Ruby's wandering mouth sealed up.

There were more than a few scorch marks, mostly marking up bent and twisted metal. Little of the walls remained, the dragon Grimm having taken them out. Off in the distance, she could see the giant blackened crater where the Atlas dreadnaught had apparently laid into the beast with it's main gun.

The most interesting thing though, in the entire room, was the giant black mark along the ground, as if it had been painted. Beside it however, the stonework had been bleached, bringing it to a far whiter tone that she remembered. Together, the two seemed to fight for dominance over the space atop the tower.

"You're useless here."

Her eyes snapped up, boring into Jane. The Wastelander merely continued with her work, splicing cables and checking the display, as if she hadn't spoken to Yang.

"What was that?" she countered, her tone biting. Jane's crimson irises merely glanced at the brawler, a bored look in them.

"You're not doing anything. Do something productive," was the reply. Jane paused, a thought coming to mind. "In fact, go grab your weapon." Turning back to her work, she cursed, tapping the screen a few times.

Yang looked at her. Holding up her hand, she waved it, the metal portions of _Ember Cecilia_ clinking softly. Jane frowned, but didn't look up. "The other one," was the succinct reply. Yang looked down at her bandaged stump, the rain having soaked it wet. She would be lying if the cool rain didn't relieve the itching.

"What makes you think it's still there," replied Yang, her voice quiet. For months now, she had refrained from thinking of the other half of her weapon, imagining it still in her arm. Had it rotted? Or had some Grimm come along and eaten it? Did rats get at it and strip it away, leaving only the bones?

Jane didn't respond, instead continuing to work getting the tower back online. Yang spat, but got up regardless, heading for the stairs. Moving around the chunks of rubble and metal cogs, she descended, the darkness of the tower swallowing her up. Jane merely glanced at the vanishing head of blond hair, contemplating. Shrugging, she went back to her work, trying to splice a connection to the terminal.

Yang walked down the stairs, her hand flicking her gauntlet in and out repeatedly, the metal parts clicking against each other somewhat soothing. Her knife was stowed on her belt, easy to reach but out of the way.

A flare of discomfort caused her to stumble slightly, her arm catching her self on the railing. Yang growled, squeezing her eyes shut. Her stomach was rolling, and it wasn't due to food. No, she was nervous, scared of what she might see. Her mouth was somewhat dry, which only furthered to increase her unease.

 _CRACK!_

Her fist struck the wall, centering her mind. "You can do this," she muttered, resuming her descent. Reaching the bottom, it was only a few quick steps before she was outside, the rain striking her again. It felt harder this time, the wind picking up slightly. She quickened her pace, heading towards where she knew the cafeteria was. Cold rain bit into her skin, wind tearing at her clothes. Not for the first time she wished her clothing covered just a bit more, the stylish outfit not working well in the rain. Raking her hand through her hair, she pulled a few blond locks behind her, ignoring the squelching sound as water compressed in her hair.

Turning the corner, her pace slowed.

Blown out windows, long since cooled fire damage, part of the front door missing. This was definitely the cafeteria. Already hazy memories floated across her vision. The healed bullet wound ached, as if reminding her of what happened. She walked forward, her pace sedate, as if by walking slower she might thing of some way to go back to Jane and tell her there was no weapon.

 _That would be stupid, Jane would know,_ her mind replied. Images of the woman came unbidden; of what she would do or say.

 _She would be disgusted you know,_ her mind continued. _She put all this work into you and you're trying to chicken out._

Her fist clenched, knuckles popping slightly. She was not trying to chicken out.

 _Sure, keep telling yourself that._

Stepping forward, feet much more uncertain compared to before, she pushed the main door open slightly, enough to slip through. The hinges let out a screech, the sound clawing across the yard. She winced, hoping nothing heard that.

Satisfied when there wasn't any sound, she continued, eyes glancing around. Her eyes were drawn to the ground. Her brow furrowed, trying to figure out what the dark brown spills on the ground were. Sections of the ceiling impeded her progress, forcing her to circle around a large portion of the room. Twice she stopped, steeling herself to go forward, bracing against the wall or a section of the fallen ceiling, catching her shaky breath.

Finally, after walking for what felt like hours but was in fact a few minutes, she found a clear patch amongst the rubble. The brown stains were concentrated here, clearly the source of whatever happened. Glancing at the center of it all, her eyes widened, the gold metal glinting dully in the light.

Her stomach heaved, finally overcoming her will. Yang spun, retching violently. Sick flew from her mouth, a small amount getting onto her boots. She ignored it, stomach continuing to heave. It wasn't until a few minutes later, when she was sure everything was gone from her stomach, that she stood up, the back of her arm wiping across her mouth. Stepping back, she hit the wall, her legs weakly holding her up.

The cool stone felt good against her exposed skin. A light throbbing had taken hold between her eyes, the effects of vomiting making itself apparent. Her shoulders shook slightly, hand clammy. Forcing her eyes open, Yang breathed, sucking in bouts of air and expelling them quickly, forcing the nausea away.

It took a few minutes, physically and mentally bracing herself, but finally the queasiness subsided, the cool stone anchoring herself. Taking a final breath, she used her free arm to push herself off the wall, stumbling back towards the center.

It was certainly the right half of Ember Cecilia, the reinforced metal unfolded from the last time it had been used. The analytical portion of her mind observed that there were still shells left in the magazine, the red cylinders a spot of color in the gold surface. But those details were momentary, quick observations that didn't have much bearing on what her eyes really saw.

At one point, it may have been an arm, lightly tanned, strong, with sinew and muscle. She could still remember it, hard calluses on her knuckles, tough skin. The way it would flex, twist, bend and respond to her command. She remembered long ours, perfecting her right hook. Images of the countless Grimm she had absolutely destroyed, the force of her hits cracking bone plating and ripping flesh, pure kinetic energy laying low countless Grimm.

Now, now it was decayed. Once, it had been perfect, now, now rot had set in. The flesh itself was black, sickly yellow streaks webbing across it, identifying where any stray fat had been. It had also expanded slightly, black fluid leaking from the stump. There was the white protrusion of bone, angled slightly from the cut. Her nausea returned, but less so, her stomach having emptied itself. Stumbling over towards her arm, she fell to her knees, an arm's length away. Her gaze stared at the rotten appendage, body refusing to move. She knew if she was to get her weapon she would have to separate the rotten appendage from the metal, something that would force her to touch the appendage.

Her eyes closed, breathing deeply. Thoughts raced across her mind, too many to catalogue and to rapid to notice. Her mind, unbidden, conjured forth a memory, of her brief fight with Adam. Anger, righteous fury at seeing Blake on the ground, sword stabbed through her into the ground. The feeling of flying, the force of her semblance, golden flames illuminating her form propelling her forward, her right arm extended for a punch.

Then a sharp pain, and blackness.

Footsteps sounded behind her.

"Yang Xiao Long died here." It was Jane, apparently she had taken longer than expected to get her weapon.

"Here you faced trauma. Something so life altering, so terrible, you couldn't possibly remain the same. The woman from before, that's the old You. Happy, full of life, completely naïve to the world."

A small metallic click, followed by the familiar sound of flint striking steel. A warm heat burst into existence right in front of her.

"That Yang died. Left behind this. Something different. Harsher." A gloved hand rested itself on her shoulder.

"Now you remake yourself. Adam Taurus killed you, but in it's place, left something so much more dangerous." An image of the White Fang leader popped into her head. Spikey red hair, white bone mask, sword sheathed on his hip. The image send a surge of anger through her form, the oh-so familiar feeling of fire igniting from within.

"You can't be Yang. You have to be something different. Something greater. Use your anger, use it to fight back. Show him that he made a mistake in not finishing the job."

She felt angry. Anger at Adam Taurus, for cutting her arm off. Anger at Cinder, for deceiving them all. Anger at the White Fang for destroying Vale. Her anger burned hot, hotter than the fire in front of her. Hotter than the hottest flame she had ever felt. It flew through her veins, muscles tightening, breathing quickening.

Anger at Weiss, for leaving, for not trying to stay with the team. She felt anger at Ruby, for abandoning her, for not helping her through this. Anger at Blake, for running, running like she always does when the going get's tough.

But most of all, anger at herself, for allowing all of this to happen. For the first time in months, she felt something. She _felt!_

Anger burned within her. She could feel her semblance start to heat up, flames licking at her hair. She took a deep breath. This kind of anger is what got her into trouble last time. This kind of raw, primal fury. This was… this was…

The old Yang.

"Refine your anger. Your anger has been like the guns on _Ember Cecilia._ Raw, unfocused. Destruction pointed in a single direction. Control your anger, use it to your advantage."

Her hand clenched, nails digging into the palm of her hand. Her semblance continued to heat up, the flames growing stronger. But the wild fury subsided, relaxing into something somewhat more manageable.

Her eyes opened, revealing crimson irises.

The flaming hand before her had died down, leaving behind blackened bone and ash. Resting on the ground was the right part of her weapon, the metal black, a few yellow portions shining through. Her hand opened, small specks of blood lining her finger tips. Carefully, she reached forward and grabbed the gauntlet, tapping the metal against the tile, letting the dirt fall off of it. If the metal was hot, she didn't notice, either not being hot enough to hurt her or her semblance protecting her.

"Yang Xiao Long died here," repeated Yang, her voice soft. Behind her, Jane nodded. Silence stretched between them, broken only by the wind.

"Back in the wasteland, something similar happened to myself." Jane got down, kneeling beside Yang. "Throughout my childhood, all it's pressures and injustices, I carried a naïve ideal. What some would call the American Dream." She chuckled. "I remember lying in the dirt, buckshot having torn through my thigh, bleeding out." A hand absently rubbed her leg, the gloved hand gliding over armor.

"It was then, bleeding out in a landscape scorched by fire, that I realised I could not be that Jane Freewrite. The one who hoped that with hard work and a smile could fix all her problems." Jane clicked her tongue. "And now look at me, I outlived them all," she whispered, more to herself than to Yang.

Silence stretched, the distant rumble of thunder in the distance signalling a larger rain storm. Rain pattered against the ground, small puffs of steam where the water hit Yang.

* * *

 _CLACK CLACK CLACK CLACK CLACK!_

The halls of the manor stretched high, several stories into the sky, curving together to create a magnificent corridor. Along the right, floor to ceiling windows stretched, painted glass forming intricate images, colorful murals of past achievements and victories. Along the left, hand painted oil portraits hung equally spaced, all depicting white haired individuals, in various regal poses, cold blue eyes tracking the figure walking across the 4 century old marble floors.

Moderately lifted boots, functional yet elegant, wrapped in fine white leather, adorned with silver and gems. A snow blue combat skirt, edged in snowflake patterns, adorned with the same bright white diamonds. Her bolero jacket was the same color, but colored a bright crimson red inside, flared out around the neck. The figure's hair was done in an off center pony-tail, adorned with a small tiara. Cold blue eyes stayed ahead, her gait firm, unyielding. Her most distinguishing feature however, was the faint pink scar, leaping across her left eye.

Outside, a blizzard hammered at the Schnee estate, the already bright hallway almost blindingly so. Her footsteps echoed loudly in the hallway, the stone and glass causing the sound to bounce and amplify everywhere. At the end of the hallway was a room, it's entrance imposing oak wood, reinforced with dust infused steel. Its aged appearance belayed the millions of lien in security measures the room itself contained.

Arriving at the door, she scarcely had to wait before the large twin doors opened outwards, revealing the interior.

Tall glass windows, a simple clear sheen, providing a glimpse at the snowstorm outside, as if mother nature herself was trying to get inside. The stone continued, but a long soft carpet, adorned with various geometric shapes all leading to the Schnee snowflake, stretched up to a wooden desk. Like the doors, it was oak, aged for almost 300 years by previous heads of the Schnee Dust Company. A single lamp sat to the right of the desk, meant to provide illumination to the occupant. A holo display sat in the center, various papers and forms stacked to the left and the right. The girl approached, stopping just before the emblem on the carpet.

To say the figure sat at the desk was a grave simplification. To sit was synonymous with rest. No, this man, while not exactly a figure of masculinity, fit the description of making a statement.

 _Here I shall stand and command the world._

The girl waited in silence, standing perfectly still, awaiting recognition from the figure at the desk. While her head was bowed, her eyes glanced up, inspecting the figure at the desk.

Like her, he had bright white hair, combed towards the back of his head, affording him a regal form. Icey blue eyes flicked over paperwork and his computer, well kept hands flying across holographic keys at blinding speeds. His white suit was freshly pressed, a deep blue tie the only bit of color on him. A thick, bushy mustache sat below his nose, somewhat ruining the fearful presence he cultivated.

Where most would see the most powerful person in Remnant, long years of living with him had tuned her to the small inconsistencies in his form. Small ques that told her far more than anybody else would know.

 _The knot on his tie is larger, he must be tired if he didn't tighten it properly. It's almost 11 in the morning and there isn't anything here for him to drink, so he was either up late or didn't sleep at all._

The man paused, lifting both hands to rub at his eyes. The silence in the room was broken only by the sounds of skin rasping on skin, the dry weather having played havoc on his skin.

"Damnable weather," he mumbled. Tapping a few times on the screen, he pulled up what looked like environmental controls, adjusting a few settings. Instantly she felt the humidity in the room rise a little.

Ice blue eyes glanced over at her. "Ah, good, you're here. I have something important to discuss." He reached over to his left, grabbing a thin folder. On it, in black ink, she could see the logo of the Atlas College of Finance.

"After that fiasco in Vale, I made some decisions regarding your current education. The fact is a Huntress is far too dangerous a job for the Heiress of the SDC. From now on you will be attending the Atlas CoF. It will ready you for taking the reins of the company."

Her mouth fell open, shock written across her features. She could feel her heard skip a beat, unable to comprehend the situation. This was her dream! To be a Huntress, to go out and change the world! Yes, she did want to take over the company, but on her terms. She wanted to live her life before it was ruthlessly chained to the SDC.

She was silent, formulating a response in her head. Noticing her silence, he looked up, eyes boring into her.

"Did you wish to say something Weiss?" he asked conversationally, as if he hadn't brushed aside her plans for her future like so much broken glass. Taking a short breath, she responded, voicing her opinion.

"I don't believe that would be for the best Father," she replied. His eyebrow quirked, inviting a response. "The time I spent at Beacon taught me how to fight, how to defend myself against the Grimm. It helped me grow, giving me experiences outside of what could be provided here with tutors. It would be a waste to throw all that away. Why not I enroll in the Academy?"

His eyes narrowed, looking at her. In this instance, any small tells vanished, instead focusing on her and her alone. He gently placed the folder on the desk, bringing his hands together and intertwining them.

"Do you know why there are hunters and huntress's?" he asked. The question confused her, completely diverging from the original question.

"I don't see-" she started, but a hand interrupted her.

"They are meant to die." Silence. A strangled, chocking sound came from her mouth, eyes wide, not comprehending the statement.

"They grow up on glamorous stories of slaying Grimm and protecting humanity. They train in nice little schools, form bonds between their team, and slowly over the next 20 or so years, they will die fighting Grimm, having amounted to little more than a deterrent to the Grimm." He pushed a few buttons on his computer, pulling up pictures of the Atlas Defence Wall, massive cannons interspaced, ready to fire at the nearest Grimm.

"In reality, it is the Walls and the Guns that protect us, those that hold the Grimm at bay. The Hunter association is nothing more than a cleverly developed scam, designed to keep the populace at ease."

He stood up, stepping firmly around the edge of the desk, walking towards her. "You are a Schnee. You cannot afford to be killed on some nameless field, forgotten by history. You are not allowed that life. I put up with it because it was a phase, but it appears I erred in that assumption." Gently, he placed both hands on her shoulders.

"You are destined to take hold of this company and bring it to further heights. It is not the Hunters that shall vanquish the Grimm, it is our science, our technology that shall do it. And who should be at the forefront of that than the Schnee Dust Company." With a gentle motion, he turned her form around towards the doors, gently nudging her forwards, her mind unable to formulate a response.

"You should go study. Term starts in 2 weeks." He closed the doors, leaving her alone in the hallway.

She stared blankly ahead, thoughts whirring. Over what felt like hours, the coalesced, becoming much more clear than the flurry of emotions at her father's lecture.

"They are not meant to die," she whispered, her body forcing the words from her. Spinning around, her right fist slammed into the wooden door. As expected, it didn't so much as shift, instead the skin splitting on her knuckles.

"You're wrong," she whispered, turning around and storming back down the hallway.

* * *

It was dark, although it was always perpetually dark. Red mist clung to the earth, the barren rocky landscape painted a deep crimson. Purple dust crystals shot out of the ground at weird angles, their light giving the world an earie feel. Any who would look upon this landscape would instinctively recoil, the unnaturalness of it a slap against their soul. In the sky hung the shattered moon of Remnant, it's many shards hung in suspension from the rest of the moon.

A lone figure stood at the top of a cliff, swathed in black robes, looking out at the landscape. Her arms were bare, showcasing black veins running up, interspaced with deep crimson tattoos. Her hair was bone white, done in a large bun. What appeared to be bone was placed in her hair, acting as a large hairpin. Black satin cloth wrapped around this, holding it in place. Her cloak had a vertical eye on the back, ending in several red drops.

Behind her, two figures dragged a third up the steps. She turned around languidly, black eyes narrowing their crimson iris's at the trio.

Two of them were hers. They were Grimm, large, bipedal. Beowolves, and old ones at that. These were her attendants, following her every whim. A thought came to her, and she glanced at them. Obligingly, they dropped the figure, stepping back. Her eyes narrowed distastefully at the newly reborn Fall Maiden.

Cinder lay there, arms crossed over her head, desperately trying to wrap herself into a fetal position, trying to protect her from some perceived threat. Her dress was ruined, several large tears revealing her form. Doubtless the stone was cold, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Report," was the terse command. She arched an eyebrow when Cinder didn't respond. Puzzled at the situation, she sent a brief command to one of her attendants. It strode forward, large clawed hand grasping Cinder. A powerful flex of it's muscles and it threw the Fall Maiden against a nearby rock, a cry of pain tearing forth.

"Report," she repeated, more firmly.

"We're all going to die," moaned Cinder, sobs wracking her body. Another mental order, and the same Grimm picked up Cinder, holding her close. She leaned forward, straining her ears somewhat to hear what the Fall Maiden was saying.

"The Reaper is coming the reaper is coming the reaper is coming," she muttered. In a rare moment, she swung her hand, backhanding Cinder. The woman's eyes locked onto her, for the first time apparently.

"Salem?" she whispered, as if her mind couldn't comprehend being here.

"Report," insisted Salem. If she had to repeat her command once more, she might have to find a new Fall Maiden.

"The 4th Horsement is coming," started Cinder, eyes going distant. "He rides on a pale horse at the command of Her," she spoke, fear thickly coating everything. Her breathing was short, quick, and despite becoming more docile at the presence of Salem, she was still tense, coiled.

"She commands Death as one would a dog, She will burn Remnant in fire, scorch the 4 kingdoms as one would an ant," she continued. Salem glared at her. While her opinion of Cinder was low, the woman was not known for making things up. Then again, this was somewhat different.

"When the fires have subsided, she will lock this world in ice, forever dead, nothing alive! We shall be as maggots in the corpse of the earth!" Cinder was starting to yell, her voice getting hysterical.

"AND THE CHRISTIAN GOD ON HIGH WILL LAUGH AT OUR SUFFEREING! THERE SHALL BE NO PEACE! WE ARE DOOMED! UG-" Her skull impacted upon the stone below, rending her unconscious. Salem walked over, shooing away the Grimm.

Laying a hand on Cinder's forehead, she sent a small burst of energy into the woman's head. When the impact wound sealed, she stood up, not bothering to heal the bruise. The worse was taken care of.

Cinder's eyes opened. Amber iris's glanced around, a soft groan rolling forth from her form.

"Wha-" she started, glancing around.

"You lost the battle against the possible Fall Maiden. Fortunately, Vale fell as planned. Go continue with your work." Turning back around, Salem looked out across the dead landscape, admoring in the stillness. Behind her, Cinder slowly stumbled to her feet, before drunkenly stumbling back towards Remnant.

Replaying Cinder's ravings in her mind, Salem smirked.

"Fascinating."

* * *

 **So sorry about the wait, things were hectic. I originally planned for this to be another 2500 words or so, but I ran out of steam, and I feel as though this is a good place to pause. The next update should be quicker, so rejoice!**

 **Now, I also used the time to figure out where I'm going with this. I leave you with this story, please Read and Review!**


	14. Answers, and Questions

_Jane glanced around, eyes roaming over every object in sight but not staying too long. The ruined structures, burn out buildings, corpses and skeletons littering the ground, most ground into the mud, compressed into a walkway of sorts by years of heavy footfalls._

 _She was back in Washington, somehow. There had been no portal, no trans-dimensional gate for which to transverse. One minute she was bunking down with Yang, getting ready to wait out the rest of the rainstorm. The next, she was here._

 _Her weapons were gone, the LMG and over-sized pistol missing from her form. The comforting weight of her sword however, was still present. Slowly, deliberately, she drew it, thumbing the switch for the shock function. Blue sparks began to dance along the length, providing some level of illumination in the otherwise grayed out world._

 _She glanced ahead, seeing the ruined building ahead of her, perched atop a series of steps like a prize. It's once white walls and proud structure crumbling, suffering from the effects of time. Calmly, resolutely, she strode forth, keeping an eye out for anything that might present trouble, be it man, creature or environment._

" _It's quiet," she murmured, her voice coming out with a mechanical tang. Her sword slowly swept from side to side, placing itself between imaginary threats as she ascended the steps towards the ruined building. Her caution was unwarranted however, as there was nothing present. No super mutants ready to squish her into a fine paste, no mercs or raiders to kill her, no mole-rats to nip at her heels._

 _She stopped at the steps, glancing upwards, seeing the giant curved dome of the White house, half of it crumbling into oblivion. The main entrance still seemed to be fine, but the east wing hadn't fared so well with the passage of time. Walking somewhat quicker, she pushed open the heavy wooden doors, their structure possibly the only thing untouched by time._

" _At the height of it all this must have been beautiful," she whispered, her voice quiet enough that the loudspeaker in her helmet didn't pick it up. To her, the White house was a great many things, all rolled up into one package. The few times she had visited, it had been for different reasons._

 _The first time had been because of what it was. The White House, center of the American Government, the beacon shining in the darkness. In her naivety, she had assumed that such a place had not been tarnished, that it still remained pure despite the passage of time. For that error, she suffered four bullet wounds and mild burns on her right arm._

 _The second time was more to prove to herself that she had gotten stronger. By then she hadn't made any significant progress on finding the location of her father, and with leads drying up and nothing to do, she loaded up on ammunition, food, supplies, ready to head out. Some would remark later that cold winds and ice followed in her wake._

 _That was also the first year that winter had come to the Wasteland in almost 200 years._

 _A vicious, day and a half campaign later and she cleared out every surviving creature in and around the White house. An almost unholy number of bullets and explosives destroyed her enemies. As if it wasn't enough, there was a persistent legend around the wasteland that during the night, you could see the fires as she burned the corpses of almost a hundred super mutants and dozens of Talon company mercs._

 _Her third excursion to the building had been to clean house again, this time researching all she could about a G.E.C.K. device. Winter had set in around that time, forcing her to stay in the old congressional library, a place that was virtually untouched compared to the rest of the world. The winter there had helped her with her research, albeit briefly, into the matter, although she had gotten interested in other documents and books._

 _Her fourth excursion had been about getting out of the Wasteland, believing herself to be the driving factor towards it's death. Winter had set in, the second one in just as many years, the ice and snow firmly grasping the land in it's fist._

 _And now she was back, with absolutely no explanation as to how._

" _Perhaps I'm dreaming?" she chuckled, rolling her shoulders. Stepping through the halls, she slowly made her way to the oval office, checking side rooms and hallways along the way. The usual rubble and decay preceded her, doors not made of metal having slowly rotted away. Scattered and molding documents littered the floor, covering what must have been a rich blue carpet. Unlike on previous ventures, there had always been loot, ranging from gore bags, all the way to discarded Talon ammo boxes._

 _The sound of feet on paper drew her attention, sword snapping into position. At the end of the hall was the oval office, the curved door slightly ajar. Distantly, she was aware that the office itself had been one of the few untouched things inside the building. Apparently the curved doors flush with the wall confused the super mutants roaming the wasteland._

 _Moving away from the side room, she slowly moved towards the office, keeping an eye out for anything that might attack. Using the tip of her blade she pulled the door open, stepping quickly into the office._

 _Light spilled out from the windows, tinted grey by the sky. Compared to the rest of the building, it was relatively well preserved. The only sign of decay was the skeleton at the desk, dominating the rear of the room._

 _SLAM!_

 _Jane spun around, leveling her sword. The door had been closed, probably from the outside. What worried her was that apparently whoever had been following her had managed to stay out of her area of perception._

 _Slowly turning, the steady hold on her sword faltered, eyes tracking upward slightly._

" _So you're back? Going to stab me again?"_ It _stood there, it's skeletal form standing tall. Curiously, more of it's form had been revealed though, as if a light had been shone into a dark room. It's face now clearly resembled a skull, blackened and charred. The blackness shrouding itself still moved of it's own accord, but now she could see it covered the much more humanoid figure. The most curious thing however, was the ice coating the exposed limbs, seemingly made only of bone, ice taking on a caricature of flesh._

 _Deep within the darkness of the chest however, she swore there was a soft yellow glow._

" _YOU INTEREST ME CHILD." Jane cursed under her breath, slowly sheathing her sword, but not removing her hand from the handle._

" _So you can speak? What brought this on?" she asked, carefully navigating around the creature. The President had shot himself with a 10mm pistol, surely that had to be lying around here somewhere, and her previous experience with the creature._

" _YOU WERE NOT ACCEPTING. YOU NEEDED TO BE ACCEPTING." Jane snorted, never taking an eye off of the creature._

" _And stabbing me with my own sword made me 'accepting,' did it? Seems like a bad way to go about doing so," she huffed, eyes drifting towards the dead president's skeletal hand. She frowned, seeing the lack of a gun. Her eyes snapped back to the creature._

" _FUCK!" Jane stumbled back, away from the burned skeletal face mere inches from her face._

" _LOOKING FOR THIS?" Icy skeletal claws drifted into view, holding an aged 10mm pistol. Hesitantly, Jane's gloved hand pulled the gun from grasp, trying not to react to the extreme cold that permeated her hand._

" _So this is a dream then? I'm guessing there's no portal downstairs?" The being stood there imposingly, the silence being her answer. "What are you anyways? Since I'm_ accepting _as you so kindly put it."_

" _A MEMORY," the being started, bringing a frozen hand up near it's face, cold black sockets staring at it. "HUMAN HISTORY, A BLOODIED CONFLICT FROM BEGINNING TO END. THOUSANDS OF YEARS OF SUFFERING AND DEATH."_

 _Jane nodded, leaning against one of the end tables against the wall, keeping an eyes on the creature. "You didn't answer my question. A 'memory' isn't exactly a description." Silence reigned between the two of them, Jane awaiting a response._

" _GRIMM FEED ON THE DARKNESS INHERENT WITHIN THE SOULS OF MAN. THIS WORLD HAD NO SUCH THING. THE DARKNESS IN THE HEARTS OF MAN HAD NOWHERE TO GO, SO IT SPREAD. I ABSORBED THAT DARKNESS."_

 _Jane nodded, rolling the facts over in her head. "So what, you're the collective evil of humanity?" That in and of itself presented a whole host of philosophical questions._

" _YES, AND NO. I AM THE SUM TOTAL OF MAN ON EARTH. ALL IT'S PROGRESS, ADVANCEMENTS, THE HATE, THE RAGE." The figure paused, lowering its hand. The empty sockets burned into Jane. "THIS WORLD IS DEAD, THERE IS NO HOPE FOR IT. MAN HAS BEEN JUDGED, WEIGHED, AND FOUND WANTING."_

 _Jane snorted, agreeing. "Yeh, nothing I've seen really redeems the overall scope of humanity." Jane paused, a bout of introspective thinking keeping her silent. "Actually, I'm probably a good example of that," she mumbled, coughing._

" _AND NOW YOU ARE IN A NEW WORLD, WITH SOULS, OF A MAN THAT MAY STILL THRIVE. I HAVE BUT ONE OBSTACLE." Jane nodded, listening. Distantly, she was wondering why she wasn't freaking out about this, that what equated to a god had bonded to her._

" _THERE IS A BEING IN REMNANT WHOM IS SIMILAR TO MYSELF, BUT DIFFERENT. THEY ASPIRE FOR THE DEATH OF MAN AND FAUNUS. THEY THRIVE ON THE BLOOD AND CHAOS CREATED BY THE GRIMM. AN AMBROSIA, IF YOU WILL, AS THEY ABSORB THE SOULS."_

" _But you don't want that, do you?" remarked Jane, feeling brave. She pushed off the table, beginning to circle the creature. "You want to replace this mirror of yourself, but you want humanity to thrive. For what reason?"_

" _SOULS ARE A CURIOUS THING," began the creature, it's hand drifting up. In the palm of ice, a blue orb appeared, ghostly flames rolling off of the surface. "THEY CONTAIN THE HOPES, DREAMS, EXPERIENCES OF THE DEPARTED. I ENJOY THEM." Jane released her hand from the sword, standing to face the creature. The white lenses of her mask staring at the creature. "BUT I HAVE A LIMITATION, I CANNOT INFLUENCE EVENTS IN THE REAL WORLD AS YOU DO." Jane nodded, understanding flooding her mind._

" _And through me, you can achieve your goals." Something clicked in her head, things coming together like a puzzle. "You're the Reaper." The identified being merely stared, unmoving._

" _YOU AND I ARE BONDED. I HAVE GIVEN YOU POWER, POWER TO SUPPLANT THIS BEING. DO THIS FOR ME AND YOU SHALL HAVE THE PEACE YOU DESIRE."_

 _Jane frowned, turning around, pacing. Minutes passed, her mind racing. Peace. Now there was a funny concept. Jane turned the idea over in her head, trying to figure out what peace for her looked like. And end to fighting? Lay down her guns? Retire?_

 _With a start, she realized she didn't even know what 'peace' it was she desired. The concept was so totally foreign to her, the idea of being at peace. She snorted at the thought. The only 'peace' she had known was back in the vault. And that was iffy at best._

" _And say I don't decide to do this? Say I abandon ship and find a nice little cabin the ass end of nowhere? What's to stop me?" she queried, a cocky grin on her face. Let it be known that Jane Freewrite took no orders from 'gods'._

 _That opinion quickly changed when an icy hand flew forward, past her chest plate, through the clothing, and into her chest. The fingers griped themselves around her heart, constricting its movement. Despite this all being a dream, the pain was real, ripping the air from her lungs, her legs suddenly giving out. The being proceeded to_ lift _her via her heart to eye level._

" _I SHALL REND YOUR SOUL INTO NOTHINGNESS OVER ETERNITY." And then it dived forward, once again into her._

* * *

Rain struck the metal roof, the sound like a waterfall inside the warehouse. Outside, wind howled, the storm having finally reached Vale. Lightning thundered in the distance, making the dark sky light up briefly.

Black ears twitched at the sound, the dull roar having left her mind. When the rain had picked up, Black had retreated into the warehouse, setting up a small shelter under some pallets. She had managed to get some canned tuna for food, food stuffs and other supplies. Her self imposed exile into Vale had been a learning opportunity.

Unlike when she had left Adam on the train, heading to start a new life at Beacon. She had hoped, _desperately_ hoped, that she could leave the White Fang behind, that she could start this new life as a blank slate. Instead, they had followed her, indirectly of course, as well as bringing the enemies of man directly into one of the last 4 cities.

Her arms wrapped around her knees, pulling them tighter. Her thoughts strayed to Yang, her _ex_ partner. Adam had followed her, if only she hadn't left, perhaps Yang would still be whole. If she wasn't as weak, she could have prevented Adam from getting the upper hand.

If she wasn't as useless.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, the sound lost in the dull roar of the storm outside.

 _BEEP BEEP!_

Her amber eyes snapped to her scroll. "A signal?" she muttered, pulling the white metal phone from her coat pocket. Pulling the sides open, she checked the display, seeing she had two bars.

"The tower can't be back online," mouthed Blake, eyes squinting. It didn't make sense, the Dragon Grimm had destroyed the transmitter, located at the top of Beacon's tower, right above Ozpin's office.

Technically there was the secondary tower in the upper district, the backup system, but you needed to manually switch the connection from Ozpin's office, as well as restore power. Both of which were impossible for herself to accomplish.

Therefore, here she was, self imposed exile, hoping to find some sort of redemption out here. What that might look like, she wasn't sure. Perhaps it meant being able to live with herself, some way to keep the crushing guilt from consuming her.

Her ears flicked, the distant sound of scraping claws on pavement. Her hand strayed towards Gambol Shroud, it's presence reassuring. Quietly, she got to her feet, moving from cover to cover, heading for one of the skylights.

3 Beowolves, their black fur matted from the rain. They prowled down the industrial district, heads moving about and sniffing the air, hoping to catch the scent of any remaining humans or Faunus. Stealthily, she moved away from the window, heading for the side door. She could probably leave them alone, but it was a little too close to her current hideaway.

Her lithe form pressed against the exit, the door pushed open enough to see the street. From this angle, the three Grimm were facing away from her, although they had stopped. A hand reached up, grabbing the hilt of Gamboul Shroud.

A head reached toward the sky, muzzle flaring as it breathed in.

She dashed forward, pulling the blade out, the metal links clicking. The one closest turned its head, baleful red eyes seeing her. Her arm stretched out, aiming her pistol at it's face. Three shots flew forth, dancing off of the white armor plates, doing nothing more than scratch. Its body tensed, core muscles doing their best to shift the beast around, ready to engage Blake.

Falling to her knees, water splashed around her as she slid under the first Grimm, her blade splitting it along it's length. From her anatomy classes, there was a powerful group of muscles across the chest of the beowolf, giving its impressive strength. If it's cut though, they can be effectively neutralized.

Already getting to her feet, her free hand grabbed the sharpened sheath, pulling it from her harness. Swinging it around, she blocked the first swipe from the second grimm, unloading a trio of shots into its throat. Black inky blood spilled forth, rupturing the esophagus. The third beast was already on her though.

Acting on instinct, she blinked, and the world shifted. A rush of black, white dots stretching into infinity, the sound of something ripping –

And she was 6 feet above, mid spin, her blade already extended along the ribbon. A flick of her wrist and the gun fired, propelling the weapon, forcing it along an arc. The 4 foot blade sunk into the beast's flank, injuring it but not killing. Its closest arm grabbed the ribbon, pulling her towards it. The force threatened to rip her arm from the socket, but her Aura flashed, keeping it in place.

Again, she blinked, the world twisting itself into a thousand points of light, appearing below the Grimm. Pushing up with her feet, she sent the sheath of Gamboul Shroud into it's heart, the extremely wide blade rending the flesh. Blood and gore poured forth, coating her torso. Grimacing, she twisted her head, trying to keep it from going into her mouth.

"Dammit," she grumbled, blinking.

And then she stood before the beast, not covered in gore, watching impassionately as the grimm fell forward, crushing the afterimage of her into dust. Behind her, the second afterimage struck the ground, quickly turning into dust as well. Walking towards the dead Grimm, she ripped her sword from it's dissolving flank, swiftly stepping over to the one writhing on the ground, it's chest muscles pulling at nothing. A quick flourish and the blade was embedded in it's skull, all movement ceasing.

Tilting her head up, her ears pressed themselves against her head, letting the rain run down her form.

A sigh escaped her lips, shaking her head. With no grimm nearby, it was safe, at least for now.

 _Crack!_

Her head snapped left, ears pointing towards the source of the noise. It was the sound of a gun firing, a large calibre gun. Several more echoed throughout the city, but undeniably coming from the city center. Another blast, this one closer. It sounded closer.

She paused, a memory flitting across her mind. That gunshot sounded familiar.

 _Yang?_

 _Line break_

Her gauntlet bucked, a red flair streaming forth. Less than a meter into it's flight, a Beowolf crumpled, it's skull caved in from the explosive force. She stumbled slightly, expecting the weight of her right arm to balance herself out.

"Keep up Yang!" shouted Jane, bisecting another Ursa, the electrically charged blade forcing the two halves into spasms, the flesh dissolving even as arms and legs kicked uselessly. She raised her pistol, the shot blowing a nearby Beowulf apart. A quick jump backwards and she cut that hand off of another one, a second shot under it's chin ending it's hateful experience.

Yang growled, her fist clenching, useless stump held close to her side. In her fist was the knife Jane had given her, the blade stained from Grimm blood. Using it was unfamiliar, as stabbing with it was far different compared to her usual style. Her lack of balance was also affecting her fight, resulting in her taking hits when she could have dodged, and missing shots she should have hit.

Ducking backwards, she brought the blade down, stabbing cleanly into the flank of an Ursa. A quick tightening of her wrist and the gauntlet fired, the force ripping the blade along the side of the Ursa, severing muscle, sinew and shattering its ribs.

"No fucking end to them!" cursed Jane, another swipe of her blade sending a Beowolf crashing across the concrete. "Use your legs Yang! You may not have an arm but you can still kick!" she laughed. As if to demonstrate, she spun around, using the heavy metal toe of her boot to kick the knee of a Beowulf, an audible snap of bone echoing through the street. The beast hit the ground, red eyes glowing with hatred. Jane replied by pulling the trigger yet again, the round burrowing into it's chest.

Yang experimentally kicked, using the recoil from _Ember Cecilia_ to augment her twist. It didn't have the same effect as Jane, but served to stun the beast altogether. Flipping the knife around, she stuck it underneath the chin of the Grimm. She grinned when it started to dissolve, ripping the knife away.

Spinning around, ready to face the next one, Yang's crimson eyes widened, seeing the last one fall to the ground, Jane calmly removing the blade from an Ursa. "Glad we took care of that!," she exclaimed, sheathing her sword. Exchanging the magazine on her gun for a fresh one, she holstered it, pulling the full length MG42 from her side.

"Come on then, we're still not anywhere near the city generators and this rain shows no sign of letting up." Pulling the bolt back, she checked her scroll, the map telling her how far away they were. "Grimm are thicker the closer we get as well. Hopefully we're skirting the edge of a pack," remarked Jane, sliding the device shut. Tucking it away in her pocket, she swiveled towards Yang, wondering why she hadn't responded.

"Yang?" she called, observing the blond. Yang herself stood motionless in front of a glass window, the contents invisible. Glancing up, she figured Yang wasn't enthralled by the dollar store she appeared to be standing in front of. Her remaining hand, having stowed the knife, was hovering near her hair. Besides the rain matting it, she wasn't sure what Yang was stuck on.

"Come on lefty, things to do people to see!" clapped Jane enthusiastically. Yang didn't move, her eyes not straying from the image. Jane merely put her hands on her hips, sighing with exasperation.

"Jesus Christ," she mumbled, ignoring the rain hitting her mask. "Can things not go simply for once?" she muttered. Striding forward, her gloved hand tapped Yang on the shoulder, attempting to get her attention.

"What's got your panties in a bunch now?" She only received silence as the answer, Yang continuing to stare at apparently her reflection. Thunder echoed overhead, close enough that she could feel it shake her chest. Out of curiosity, she looked past the reflection in the window, seeing if there was anything interesting in the store worth looting.

"Well that's different," she mumbled. Waving her hand, she waved, raising her voice. "Hey Blake!"

Jane managed to observe the figure in the store for all of 3 second. 3 second to take in the worn out clothing, huge purple bags under her eyes, messy, unwashed hair tied behind her head, ears poking out languidly. Her stand was ridged, as if surprised that Yang and Jane would be here, in the abandoned city.

And then she turned tail, sprinting out the back of the store. Before Jane could even respond, Yang leapt _through_ the glass, intent on chasing Blake down, red eyes almost glowing.

Rain continued to hammer, the thunder once again becoming the dominant sound. "Fuck this," grumbled Jane, pulling out her scroll. Opening a picture of Yang, she typed out a quick message.

 _Going to the generators. I am not motivated enough to spring after you. If by some miracle you survive, I'll be at the docks when the power is restored._

Tapping 'send,' she put the small device away, proceeding to walk towards the industrial district, where the generators were.

* * *

Despite having fallen into disrepair for over 6 months, the interior of the building was in surprisingly good condition. The walls were clean, boxes organized, main thoroughfares open and easy to traverse. Details like these were inconsequential though to Yang, whom was sprinting after the cat Faunus, desperate to catch up to her. If she was fast, she could see her disappear behind another hallway door, heading to the upper levels of the building. The soft padding footsteps of her partner were completely opposite to the heavy thuds of her combat boots, the sound ringing out across the building.

"BLAKE! Just hold on!" she screamed. Up ahead, Blake sprinted through a door, the heavy wood slamming shut. As soon as she was near, she punched with her fist, the explosive round ripping through the wood, doing nothing to slow her down. A metal ladder to the left headed upwards, towards what looked like a roof exit. Glancing at her one hand, she growled, determined not to let it stop her. What followed was a graceless ascension of the ladder, her one hand doing nothing more than to hold her on course as her legs literally launched herself upwards.

Bursting through the hatch, she glanced around, seeing a blur to her right. Ignoring the gravel sliding beneath her legs, she scrambled, sprinting across the roof, following Blake as quickly as she could. The Faunus was utilizing the obstructions to her advantage, leaping over glass skylights and between steel and brick chimneys. Yang, having neither the agility nor the grace afforded by a Faunus heritage, was reduced to skirting the obstacles, leaping over low walls and gaps between the alleyway gaps between buildings.

"Blake! Stop!" Her voice was ragged, tearing at the end as her lungs fought for air against her will. The rain pounded her, with lightning cracking over head, every strike causing the Faunus to slow down slightly, disorientated.

Up ahead, she saw her partner make an exceedingly long jump, utilizing two shadow clones to cover what must have been the distance between a main road. Stumbling to the edge, she stopped just before she would have fallen. Gauging the distance, Yang instinctively knew she couldn't make that jump. Even with _Ember Cecilia_ she couldn't hope to make it.

"STOP RUNNING!" She wailed, her voice reaching across. Blake just stood there, the rain soaking her clothing. Despite not actually facing Yang, she managed to get a good look at her partner.

Her clothing was worn, with rips and tears everywhere. The once black vest had been replaced with a white coat, empty stitch marks labeling it as something scavenged from a White Fang grunt. There was no bow on her head, allowing her ears free movement.

"Please!" she shouted, quieter this time, but no less demanding. "Please, don't run." Blake refused to turn around, still standing there. An ear flicked as thunder rolled, but beyond that, she remained unmoving.

"Don't leave me," the blond whispered, eyes flicking back to lilac. "I-" a hard lump formed in her throat, preventing words from forming. She swallowed, mind whirling. Words came and went, flying in front of her mind's eye faster than she could process. There were so many things she wanted to say, to ask of the Faunus. She wanted her to stay, to help get the power back, find Ruby, find Weiss, make sense of this new world they found themselves in.

She wanted to old times back, when they would laugh between classes, sleep during lectures, train until they couldn't stand, and then train some more. She wanted to spend time with them, hunting Grimm, watching movies, telling stories. She wanted to spend time with Blake, back during those lazy afternoons, where she would nap and Blake would read, both taking comfort in the silence.

She wanted her partner back.

She wanted Blake.

"I need you," she spoke, confident that the Faunus could hear her. "I need my partner, my friend. I need _you!"_ Her voice cracked at the end, the confession leaving her. She wasn't sure if Blake understood the meaning, she hardly understood it herself.

"Don't leave me, not again."

The silence stretched between them, the only sound being the rain on the ground and the thunder in the air. Yang knew that the figure wasn't a clone, the wind pulled and tugged at Blake's form, her clothing swaying with the currents. Her shadow clones didn't have that.

Yang sank to her knees, lilac eyes fixated on Blake, the silence stretching into the minutes. For the first time in a while, she felt cold, the rain seeping through her skin and semblance, chilling her to her core. The tightness in her throat returned, a tear falling from her eye. Several more fell, light sobs racking her chest, shoulders shaking.

"I need you!" A clenched fist struck the ground, gravel exploding outwards. Blake shifted, pivoting slightly. Yang could see her face, the bags beneath her eyes, her amber orbs dimmed slightly. She looked at her lips, waiting for her to speak.

" _I'm sorry_."

A flash of black smoke and she was gone, leaving Yang alone on the rooftops.

Her body froze. The lump disappeared, tears stopped. Her mental processes quit, lilac orbs tracking the final few particles of black dust vanishing in the wind and the rain. Her fist started to clench, knuckles whitening. Her stump started to itch, commands for her right hand to clench ending at the cut. Her breathing grew shallow, forceful, the mere act of breathing becoming an exercise in force. Her eyes shrunk to pinpricks, focussing on the spot from before.

She swore she heard something crack.

" _ **GRHHHHAAAAA!**_ " Flames erupted from her body, moisture turning into steam, drying her instantly. Bright yellow flames leapt from her form, rain evaporating meters away, not getting the strength to soak her. Leaping to her feat, a single powerful kick of her legs pushed her forwards, sailing over the gap between buildings. The flames grew higher, reaching several meters into the air. From a distance, it was as if a fireball had exploded into existence.

A blast from _Ember Cecilia_ and she managed to clear the gap, landing on the building opposite. Shockwaves rippled out from the impact, gravel exploding like shrapnel, her fist striking the ground. Her legs kicked out, her form sprinting across the roof, fire continuing to burn in her wake. Her now red iris's caught a door ajar, her body already reacting.

What could only be described as a living goddess of flame exploded through the door, the heat wafting from her form already causing the structure to warp and deform from the heat. Following where she could only guess where Blake might have gone, she stormed through, disregarding her environment. Happening across a stairwell, she jumped, landing several floors below, the heat having melted the banisters all the way down.

Her fist was like steel, no longer a collection of fingers, tendons and flesh in her mind, but a single object made from the hardest metal. A single hit and the doors to the building exploded outwards, her form striding outwards into the square. Seeing that Blake wasn't there, her anger only grew, the heat reaching higher temperatures. Lightning flashed above her, as if the storm was reacting to her presence. Incoherent rage had consumed her, the pain of being abandoned again fueling her semblance.

Unnoticed by her, the metal fountain in the middle was starting to sag, the hollow copper not able to withstand the heat of her semblance. Behind her, the building she had traversed was on fire, flames consuming the structure, flames hotter and brighter than any normal building fire.

" _I'm sorry."_

" **YOU'RE SORRY? YOU DON'T GET TO BE SORRY!** " If it was possible, the flames reached higher, her screaming for all to hear. Nearby, the fountain had folded in on itself, forming a puddle. The molten copper having started to flow over the edge of the fountain, trailing slowly towards her.

" **NO MORE!** " Her fist flew down, striking the earth with the force of a meteor. The earth rippled outwards, waves in the cobblestone flowing out from her like ripples in a pond. When the impact waves hit the fountain, it catapulted liquid copper into the air, surrounding Yang in an instant.

Lightning struck.

Three bolts of white energy, moving at the speed of light, snapped into existence, coming down from the heavens, striking the cloud of liquid copper surrounding the brawler. Energy sprinted from droplet to droplet, racing around, the positive energy from the bolts swirling around the metal rain, an ever-closing vortex, racing at the speed of light towards the only thing more conductive than liquid copper;

A super heated Aura infused Huntress.

Less than a hundredth of a second later, the copper evaporated into the air, the combined energy from the three lightning bolts striking Yang at the same time, the force spread out across tens of thousands of droplets of copper, impacting her from every angle, her superheated body acting as the grounding rod for the purest form of Nature's wrath.

Yang had, in essence, just received a bitch slap from mother nature, telling her to shut up.

The fire quit, her anger depleted. Her body felt numb, as if every single emotion driving her recently had just stopped. Her form swayed, unable to maintain balance. One eye twitched, both crimson in coloring. The world tilted, the sky rushing downwards, replacing her vision.

"Ow," was the wheezed reply from her mouth, staring uselessly at the sky. She closed her eyes, the world fade to darkness.

The rain had stopped.

* * *

 **Alright, I know this took a while, and I'm meh about it. I haven't had a good idea where I wanted to take this story, and it's only recently I figured out a system that works for me. Will I continue to do massive chapters? Yeh, but I'll try to make 'massive' = +5k words. That's reasonable.**

 **I plan on once a month publishing, although it's not firm. But I've written out some key events on what I want to happen during the story. How long do I think this story will be? Eh, maybe 30-40 chapters at most.**

 **We'll see.**

 **Thanks for sticking around so far, I just wish the hiatus hadn't been so long.**

 **Also, as I've mentioned before, I own none of this, just the original idea for the plot.**


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